


Desperation

by Emospritelet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Major Illness, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pandemics, Smut, Spinner!Rum in Storybrooke, Sprite's Pandemic Promptathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet
Summary: Belle has only recently moved to Storybrooke, and now finds herself in the midst of an outbreak of deadly disease, the residents of the town fighting amongst themselves over dwindling supplies. In the midst of all the chaos, she meets a man who seems more desperate than most, but perhaps he has good reason.Winner of Best Pandemic/Quarantine Fic in The Espenson Awards 2021
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 448
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> @anonymousnerdgirl prompted:
> 
> 3: “Please - he’s burning up!”
> 
> 4: “No, you take it. You need it more.”
> 
> 6: “You don’t look so good”

The pandemic had sent everyone crazy, Belle had decided. She had seen reports on the news of panic-buying and fights breaking out in supermarket parking lots, but that had been in New York and Miami, where the population was far denser and the supplies had further to stretch. She had never thought to see it in Storybrooke itself. A sense of community was one of the reasons she had moved to the small town from Boston three weeks earlier, to take up the post of librarian. It had been a chance at a new life, a new start. But then the virus had spread, the populace had panicked, and now she was standing in the general store, clutching a bottle of wine and a bar of chocolate and wondering why the hell people were bulk-buying toilet paper and fighting over bags of pasta.

“For fuck’s sake, move!” snapped a tall, muscular man, his arms loaded with cardboard trays full of cans of beans, and what some would consider a handsome face twisted into ugliness. “Are you deaf? Get out of the way!”

Belle shot him a withering look, but took a step back, and he barged past on his way to the cash register, where a harassed-looking assistant was trying to keep order. Frowning after him, Belle turned back to where she had been about to grab one of the remaining packets of paracetamol. Only two packs were left on the shelf, the others gone in the time it had taken her to glare after the muscle-bound idiot carrying beans. She was already suffering from period cramps, and the wine and chocolate, while welcome, weren’t going to cut it. Belle reached for a pack of tablets, but a lightly-tanned hand with slender fingers reached them first, snatching up both. She wanted to _ scream _!

“Those are the last ones!” she complained, turning to face her opponent.

She found herself looking at a man not much taller than her, in a brown and white plaid shirt and jeans. with brown hair long enough to brush his cheekbones and dark, earnest eyes. He wore a mask stretched across his mouth and nose, elastic straps around his ears holding it in place.

“Sorry!” said the man hastily. “I - I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t take them if I didn’t have to!”

He spoke with an accent: Scottish, she thought, a pleasant burr in his voice. He was thin and wiry, and looked scared, as though he thought a woman of five-feet-two was somehow a threat. 

“Everyone’s just grabbing what they can and hoarding it, it’s driving me crazy!” she snapped. “Have you all lost your minds?”

The man shook his head vehemently.

“No no, you don’t understand,” he insisted.

“What I _ understand _ is that I’m in agony with period cramps and I can’t even get pain relief in this town!”

The man hesitated, eyes flicking back and forth between Belle’s face and the packets in his hands, and clutching them to his chest for a moment as though they were made of gold. After a moment, in which he seemed to wrestle with something in his mind, he hesitantly held one out to her.

“Here,” he said quietly. “You’re in pain, you should have these.”

“Thank you,” said Belle, calming a little as she took the packet of pills. “Thank you. There really would be enough to go around, you know, if people weren’t being stupid.”

“Yeah.”

He sounded distracted, as though he wasn’t really listening.

“I’m sure there’ll be another delivery this week,” she added. “You can come back and get more.”

“Yeah.”

The man’s eyes were following the movement of her hands as she spoke, fixed on the packet of pills in them. Belle frowned. _ There’s more to this than everyone turning into pack rats. _

“You - you said I didn’t understand,” she said slowly, making him look up. “What is it? Why did you want these?”

The man shook his hair back, glancing around. There was a nervousness to him, an edgy desperation. As though he was afraid of something. As though something terrible was about to happen.

“It’s - it’s my boy,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “He has the virus, I - I tried to take him to the hospital, but they had no beds and they sent us home.” He swallowed hard, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please,” he begged. “Please - he’s burning up!”

He looked terrified and desperate, and Belle could feel her heart go out to him. Not a hoarder. Not a selfish idiot, only out for himself. Just a scared father.

“No,” she said, more softly, and reached out, pressing her packet of paracetamol into his hand. “No, you take it. You need it more.”

The man almost seemed to sink in on himself as he clutched at the pills, and for a moment Belle thought he was going to cry. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

He was still clinging to her hand, and Belle could sense it was perhaps all that was keeping him together. She decided to help as much as she could, turning him in the direction of the cash register. His hand was hot, and although it was hot in the store itself she wondered if he, too, had the virus. If so, she certainly shouldn’t be touching him, but she didn’t want to leave him alone. Not in the midst of a crowd of scared and angry townsfolk who were taking whatever they could snatch.

“Come on,” she said encouragingly. “I’ll buy these with my own things, and that way we don’t have to wait around any longer than necessary, okay?”

He nodded wearily, his head hanging. She paid for her wine and chocolate, and for the tablets, and steered him out of the shop. The man let her pull him along, turning to her when they were outside and taking the pills from her with a whispered word of thanks. Now that they were out in the sunlight, Belle could feel her heart clench. He looked haggard, his eyes sunken with dark shadows beneath them.

“You don’t look so good,” she said, and he shook his head.

“I’ll be okay,” he said. “Just haven’t slept much in days, that’s all.”

Belle shook her head, and reached out, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“You have a fever,” she added. “You should be in bed. Someone else should have come out to the store.”

“No one to come,” he said simply. “No one wants to help. Not now. Can’t blame them. I - I mean Granny used to take care of Bae when I was working late, but she’s sick now, and...” He trailed off, shaking his head and looking down at the pills in his hands. “No help.”

“Right.” Belle bounced on her toes. “Well. Look, why don’t I walk you home? You shouldn’t be trying to do everything yourself.”

The man looked at her curiously, the mask over his face dimpling a little around his nose as he breathed in.

“You want to help me?”

“Well, I was supposed to be opening the library in this town,” she said. “But then a pandemic arrived and kind of put everything on hold. So I guess I need to find some other way to keep busy, huh?”

His eyes crinkled, and she suspected he was smiling.

“Alright,” he said. “Uh - follow me. It’s not far.”

“My name’s Belle, by the way,” she added. “Belle French.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss French,” he said. “My name’s Gold.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @anonymousnerdgirl prompted: 26: “Here. This’ll make you feel better” and 27: “Is there anything more I can do?”

Belle followed Mr Gold along the street, watching his hair bounce, a little straggly where he had been running his fingers through it and where it caught on the straps of his face mask. She hadn’t noticed until they started walking that he used a cane, held close to his body on the right hand side. He walked with a swift, limping stride, as though he was used to doing so. An old injury, she suspected, given by the speed at which he moved. She quickened her pace a little to walk alongside him, and he glanced at her, lines of worry creasing his forehead and an air of anxiety hanging around him.

“How old’s your son?” she asked.

“Eight,” he said. “His name’s Baeden. Bae.”

“How long has he been sick?”

“Uh - four days? Five?” He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Four, I think. At first he was just tired. Not himself. He’s usually so bright, so cheerful, like a ray of sunshine. Opposite of me.” His eyes crinkled at the sides, and she suspected he was smiling. “But - but the other day he said he was feeling sick. I hoped it was just a stomach upset, so I put him to bed. Yesterday he had a fever, said his throat was sore. The fever got worse, and he started coughing, and - and I knew I had to get help, but the hospital’s overwhelmed!”

He was shaking his head a little, his free hand still clutching the pills she had bought, and she put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, as though he expected a blow, and Belle bit her lip.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she said soothingly. “The pills will bring his temperature down, give his body a chance to fight the virus.”

He nodded fervently, hair swinging in his face, and glanced up, gesturing ahead.

“That’s my house.”

Ahead of them, tucked into one of Storybrooke’s smaller side streets, was a small house surrounded by a neat garden. It was built of clapboard, with steps leading up to the porch, the whole thing painted in butter yellow and sage green, the porch in a darker shade of green with a bench beneath the window. Belle glanced curiously around as they went up the path, flowered bedding plants edging the small patch of lawn outside and wild roses climbing up the side of the porch. She wondered if he had help with the garden, or if he tended it himself.

Mr Gold let them inside, the interior dim and cool after the spring sunshine, and Belle looked around as he closed the door behind them. The house was small, a narrow hallway leading to a wooden staircase. The door off to the right was opened a crack, and Belle could see what looked like kitchen cupboards beyond. The faint sound of coughing was coming from above, and he glanced up, a look of alarm in his eyes.

“We should wash our hands,” she said, and he nodded.

“Yes. Come on through.”

The kitchen was small, but cosy and spotlessly clean, with potted herbs on the windowsill and a larder filled with what looked like homemade preserves. Belle wondered if they came from Granny at the diner; he had said that she helped out with childcare. She washed her hands in the sink, lathering up with soap, and took a towel from him to dry off. Gold had taken off the mask before washing his own hands, and she saw his face for the first time. He was thin, fine lines stretching from his nose down around his mouth, his cheekbones sharp, his nose a little long. His lower lip was soft, almost sensual, his eyes the colour of aged, polished wood, tight with worry. He ran a hand through his hair again, and she imagined it was a nervous habit.

“Right,” said Gold. “Right. Uh - I’d best see how he is.”

“He’ll need some water to take those pills,” she said, and he nodded.

“There’s a jug on his nightstand.” He looked uncertain. “Uh - look, I’m sure you don’t want to risk infection. I don’t suppose you want to meet him.”

“I’ll say hello from the door,” said Belle. “It’s just - well, I have a library sitting there doing nothing, so if he wanted to borrow some books while he recovers…”

She spread her hands, shrugging a little, and he nodded with a faint smile.

“When he feels better, I’m sure he’d love that.”

She followed him upstairs, the treads creaking under their feet, and Gold pushed open the door to the left at the top of the stairs. The room was dim, the curtains drawn, and there was a young boy with dark hair and large dark eyes, lying in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin and staring at them.

“Hey there, Bae,” said Gold gently. “I’m back. I told you I wouldn’t be long, didn’t I? I brought you some medicine.”

“Who’s that?” asked Bae, in a high, somewhat unsteady voice. Belle imagined it was due to the coughing. She smiled at him, waving a greeting.

“This is Miss French,” said Gold. “She very kindly helped me out at the store. Miss French is a librarian. I imagine she likes to read as much as you do.”

Belle smiled.

“You can call me Belle,” she said. “I run the library in Storybrooke. Or - or at least I will, when everyone’s better. Pleased to meet you, Bae.”

“Hey,” said Bae listlessly.

“Do you like books?” she added. “I could bring you some when you’re a little better.”

There was a spark of interest at that.

“That would be cool,” said Bae. “I like—” Whatever he had been about to say was broken by another fit of coughing, and he shook his head. “Papa, I don’t feel good.”

Gold sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his son’s forehead. He was facing Belle, and she saw his expression change, his jaw tighten and his lower lip tremble a little. When he turned back to Bae, however, he was smiling.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” he said kindly. “Here, sit up. I need you to take one of these.”

Bae struggled with the blankets, and Belle watched somewhat helplessly as Gold pushed them down and lifted up his son, setting him against the pillows in more of a sitting position. He was coughing again, burying his face in the crook of a pyjama-clad arm, and Gold stroked his hair, whispering something low and soothing. He pressed a kiss to Bae’s forehead, and sat back, reaching to the side to pour a glass of water.

“Here,” he said. “This’ll make you feel better.”

He pushed one of the tablets from its blister pack, handing it over and holding up the water. Bae swallowed the tablet obediently, wrinkling his nose a little before drinking.

“There. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. Lie back down, now.” 

Bae wriggled back down in the bed, and Gold stroked his hair tenderly, the dark curls flopping against his forehead.

“My throat hurts, Papa.”

“I know, son.” Gold’s face twisted a little, as though he was trying not to cry. “Hey, why don’t I make you some hot honey and lemon? Would you like that?”

A slow nod.

“Okay then.” He bent to kiss Bae’s forehead. “You get some rest now, okay? I’ll bring you a hot drink in a little while.”

“‘Kay. Bye, Belle.”

“See you soon, Bae.”

She stepped out into the corridor, waiting as Gold pulled the door shut and turned back towards the stairs, his expression grim. They went downstairs in silence, and Gold went to wash his hands again, drying them on a towel before slumping into a seat at the kitchen table. He gestured at the cupboards with a wave of his hand.

“End cupboard, top shelf,” he said. “Ibuprofen. You said you were in pain. Please, take some.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Belle got up, searching for the ibuprofen and finding them in a plastic box of medicines, plasters and sterile dressings. She took two, swallowing them down with a drink of water, and sat opposite him at the table. Gold was sitting with his head hanging, the picture of miserable weariness.

“He’s burning up,” he said quietly.

“You’re doing all you can,” said Belle gently. “And - and honestly, you look as though you should be in bed too. Why don’t you take some of those pills?”

He shook his head.

“Might not be able to get any more,” he said. “He needs them more than I do.”

“He needs you well enough to take care of him,” she said, and he shrugged.

Belle glanced around at the neat, orderly kitchen with its stock of homemade produce. A chalkboard had a list of meals for each day of the week on it, a pad of paper to the side with a grocery list. The house was clean and tidy, the cupboards stocked and their lives clearly well organised. Was he doing all of this himself? Where was Bae’s mother?

“Is it just the two of you living here?” she asked delicately.

“Yes. Just us.” 

She didn’t like to ask how that had come about, but Gold looked up, seeming to sense her curiosity.

“Bae’s mother left when he was four,” he said. “It’s been just us ever since.”

“Raising a child alone has to be hard work.”

Gold smiled faintly.

“Well, he makes it easy,” he said. “Most days. And - and I’m being a terrible host. Can I offer you some tea?”

“No, please, let me make it,” she said immediately. “And the honey and lemon for Bae, if you like. You look exhausted, you really should rest, I was serious about wanting to give you a hand.”

His smile broadened, a grateful look in his eyes.

“I won’t deny it’s a relief to sit down,” he said. “And I know how it helps, sometimes. Keeping busy.”

“Good,” she said. “Then I’ll make the tea, and the hot drink for Bae. Is there anything more I can do?”

Gold ran his hands over his face with a sigh before sitting back in his chair and letting his head roll back.

“I don’t think so,” he said quietly. “It just helps to not be alone.”

Belle smiled.

“Well,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: 15: “I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck here with only me for company.”

Belle made the tea, pleased to see that Mr Gold had a teapot, just as her mother had always used. She poured hot water in, setting a pretty crocheted tea-cosy over the pot, and turned to the hot drink for Bae. Lemons filled a yellow ceramic bowl decorated with a pattern of stylised oranges, pointed green leaves scattered in between them. She took one of the lemons and cut some slices, putting them into a cup. A quick search of the cupboards turned up a jar of honey, so she spooned some in and stirred the whole thing up with hot water.

Gold was silent, and for a moment she thought he was asleep at the table in his chair, but as the spoon clinked against the cup he stirred, inhaling deeply and letting out a heavy sigh. Belle carried the teapot to the table, setting it on an iron trivet and following with cups, saucers and the milk jug she took from the fridge. He sent her a tired smile.

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

He closed his eyes again, slumping a little in the chair, and Belle felt a tug of sympathy for him.

“You don’t sound as though you’re from Maine,” she said, and his lips quirked a little.

“Nor do you.”

“Yeah, I’m from Melbourne. Went to college in Boston. You?”

“Glasgow. Moved to the US years ago." Fingers ran through his hair, rubbed over the new stubble on his chin. "Never lost the accent, though. We used to move around a lot when I was a kid - my father was kind of in and out of work a lot - so I always tried to keep my accent. Tried to keep a little bit of home.”

“I take it he’s not around either?”

Gold sat up, leaning on the table and threading his fingers together.

“No,” he said heavily. “No, he - he hasn’t been around for a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The smile on Gold’s face was wry. 

“I don’t mean that he’s dead,” he said. “He just - left. When I was around Bae’s age.”

Belle could feel her mouth fall open, and snapped it shut.

“He _ abandoned _you?”

“Well, he left me with the two women who lived next door to us,” said Gold, as though it was no big deal. “It’s not like he abandoned me on the streets, or anything.”

“God, I’m…” Belle shook her head. “I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry.”

“Actually it’s fine,” he said. “They were good women. Taught me a lot. You don’t have to share blood to be a family.”

That was true, she supposed.

“What made you choose Maine?” she asked.

“We’d been living in New York,” he said. “I moved there with Milah - my ex-wife. She decided that Boston wasn’t the place to have her dreams come true, and so we went to New York. When she left, I thought Bae could use a quieter place to grow up. Somewhere with a garden. There was no way I could afford anything bigger than a one-bed in the city, and honestly even that was a push.”

“So you came to Storybrooke?”

Gold smiled a little.

“My Aunt Rosa used to tell me stories of a holiday she took by the sea," he said, "eating lobster bought from the fishermen at the docks of a small town. People stopping to talk to each other, a sense of community. It sounded nice.” 

He reached out to pluck the tea cosy from the pot, pouring the tea carefully into the cups. 

“This was the closest thing you could find to that, huh?” she said. “I understand wanting to feel part of something. Cities can be so - impersonal - sometimes.”

“Cities will chew you up and spit you out, leaving nothing but bones for the rats to gnaw,” he said quietly. “At least here people notice if you fall in the street.”

There was an edge to his voice, a touch of bitterness, and Belle suspected there was a story there somewhere. She decided that it wasn’t something she should be asking about an hour after meeting the man.

“It does seem a nice place,” she said. “Friendly.”

Gold smiled faintly.

“It _is_ nice,” he agreed. “The storms can be severe, and the winters harsh, but I don’t mind that. It’s a close-knit community. When there isn’t a deadly pandemic sweeping through it, of course.”

“Yeah.” Belle felt a little wistful, and he tilted his head.

“And you?”

“I’d been working in the library in Boston after I finished my Master’s,” she said. “Decided I wanted a little more autonomy, so I started making some enquiries. Someone from the Mayor’s office got in touch, and - and here I am. Hoping for a simpler way of life, like you said.”

“Well, you’ll certainly get that here,” he remarked, pushing a cup towards her. “Not much changes in Storybrooke, so everyone was excited about the prospect of the library opening again. Before the virus, I mean.”

“Yeah,” she said, adding milk and stirring. “It’s going to take me longer to open than I thought.”

“Well, when you do, I’m sure Bae and I will be your first customers,” he said, and she returned his smile.

“What kind of books does he like?” she asked. “If I know that, perhaps I can bring him something suitable when he’s feeling up to it.”

“Fantasy stories, mainly,” he said. “Anything fantastical. Dragons and wizards are a definite plus.”

Belle chuckled, sipping her tea.

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

They lapsed into silence. Gold drank his tea slowly, running a hand through his hair as he stared off at a point in the distance. Worry etched lines in his forehead and around his eyes, and Belle felt an unexpected urge to put her hand over his, to send him some comfort. A foolish thought, in these times. He blinked, sitting back and draining his cup.

“I’d better take Bae his drink,” he said. “It should have cooled enough by now.”

He stood up, and Belle reached out instinctively as his legs buckled and he grasped the back of the chair to steady himself. She snatched her hand back before she could touch him, and Gold shook his head with a rueful smile.

“I shouldn’t have sat down,” he said. “Should have known better. It only makes it ten times harder to get up again.”

“You need to rest,” she said gently. “You’re sick, you can’t do everything yourself. Please, if you need me to help, I can help.”

He gave her an almost wistful look, hands gripping the curved wooden back of the chair tightly, and shook back his hair.

“I’ll manage,” he said. “You’ve been very kind, but I can’t ask any more. I heard the town may be in lockdown soon. You should get home while you can, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck here with only me for company.” 

“Well, in that case, is there anything I can get you from town?” she asked. “Any errands you want running, I can do it.”

Gold hesitated, and shrugged.

“Actually there is something,” he said. “I do the books for Granny, amongst others, and - and we could use the money. Could you maybe pick them up for me? It wouldn’t be too much, just the ledgers and invoices, that sort of thing.”

“Of course!” said Belle at once. “The diner, right?”

“Diner’s closed,” he said. “But she and her granddaughter are still doing takeout food from the inn. If you try at the reception desk, Ruby should be able to help you out.”

“I’ll go now,” said Belle.

“And if you could ask how Granny is?” he added. “She’s been good to me and Bae, and this illness could be hard on her. I’d like to know she’s okay.”

Belle nodded.

“Consider it done.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted: 11: "Oh, I'm fine, I never get sick"

Belle left Mr Gold giving Bae his honey and lemon while she went back into town. She had washed her hands thoroughly before leaving, and told herself she would need to be more careful; the virus was virulent and the last thing she needed was to come down with it herself. It was hard to see someone battling their own sickness to love and care for their child, though. She was determined to do what she could to help.

She crossed the street, dodging a trio of men with their arms filled with multi packs of toilet paper who got a little too close. Shaking her head, she walked by the diner and up the tree-lined path that led to the inn.

The interior was dark and cool, and Belle shivered a little as she tapped the bell on the desk. There was a cheerful _ ping _ , and she hesitated, hand hovering above it, wondering if she would need to wash her hands again. _ Should have worn gloves. _

“You here for takeout?”

A young woman stuck her head around the corner behind the reception desk, and Belle took a few hasty steps back, leaving enough room for her to enter properly and leave a generous space between them. She had seen the woman on the few occasions she had been in the diner, pretty and long-limbed, a bright red streak in her dark hair. She smiled widely, leaning on the reception desk and tapping red-lacquered fingernails against the wood.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “The new librarian, right?”

“Yes.” Belle returned the smile. “My name’s Belle. Belle French.”

“Ruby Lucas,” said the woman. “Did you place an order? I thought it was Leroy wanting his bacon cheeseburgers.”

“Oh no,” said Belle hastily. “No, it’s not that. It’s - I’m kind of doing someone a favour. I was just over at Mr Gold’s house, and—”

“Oh, you know Rum!” said Ruby, and Belle shook her head, confused.

“Rum?”

“Mr Gold,” explained Ruby, leaning on her elbows and grinning. “His first name’s Rum. I guess it’s short for something? But I have no idea what, so…” She shrugged. “He does Granny’s books.”

“Yeah, that’s partly why I’m here,” said Belle. “I told him I’d pick them up. And - and he said that your granny was sick. He wanted to know how she’s doing.”

Ruby’s face fell a little, a hint of anxiety in her dark eyes.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, yeah, she’s okay. I mean not _ great _but okay. I’m really worried, not gonna lie, but I’m trying not to let her see, you know? She did at least eat something today, so I think maybe she’s starting to get over the worst of it. Maybe.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Belle sincerely. “What about you?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine, I never get sick,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “Just as well, this place doesn’t run itself. Even with no customers.”

“The diner’s still doing takeout?” asked Belle, and Ruby nodded.

“Yeah. Business is pretty slow, but we’ve done a few deliveries of meals to people who can’t leave their homes, and there are regular orders for burgers.”

“Better than nothing, I guess,” said Belle.

“Yeah, but if the Mayor orders a full lockdown, we’re screwed,” said Ruby, with feeling.

“Is that likely?”

“Don’t know. If those morons down at the Rabbit Hole don’t stop throwing their stupid parties, maybe.”

“That would be hard on you guys,” said Belle. “I’m kind of stuck in limbo until I can open the library, but at least I’m getting paid.”

“Sucks, huh?” said Ruby, and sighed. “How’s Rum? How’s Bae? He’s a cute kid, but I imagine even he’ll start to bounce off the walls if he has to be stuck inside.”

“Oh.” Belle winced. “Uh - he’s sick. Actually, they’re both sick. Kind of why I’m here, I wanted to help them.”

Ruby looked sober.

“Damn, I should have known there was something up when he didn’t pick up the books,” she said. “Between caring for Granny and trying to look after the business, I don’t have a minute to really think about the rest of the town.”

“And I’m here with time on my hands,” said Belle. “So I said I’d run any errands he needed.” 

“Well, it’s good of you,” said Ruby. “We try to be there for each other in this town. There’s a few exceptions—assholes, in case you needed a translation—but most people will help you out if you need it.”

“That’s good to know,” said Belle, with a smile. “And I could probably use a guide to the local assholes, just in case.”

“Consider it done,” said Ruby, with a grin. “How’s Bae doing?”

“He’s in bed,” said Belle. “High fever and a cough. Mr Gold is trying his best to ignore the raging fever he has while he tries to look after him. I’m worried he’s gonna collapse from exhaustion, never mind the virus.”

Ruby snorted.

“Yeah, that’d be right,” she said. “The guy would walk over hot coals for his son. It must be tearing him up not being able to care for him properly.” She threw up her hands, shaking her head. “Anyway, this isn’t getting anything done, is it? Let me get those books for you.”

She pushed away from the reception desk, heading out, and Belle paced slowly back and forth, one eye on the empty street outside. Ruby’s words had given her pause for thought, and an idea was forming in her mind. It wasn’t the best idea she had ever had, in the circumstances, but it had taken root and branched out in her brain, refusing to budge. She nodded to herself. _ It’s the least I can do. Maybe one day I’ll need someone to be there for me. _

It wasn’t long before Ruby came back in, arms carrying two heavy ledgers, a cardboard concertina file and a plastic bag full of what looked like cash register receipts. She let the pile thump onto the reception desk, huffing out a breath.

“You gonna be okay carrying these?” she asked. “They’re heavier than they look.”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Would you mind holding onto those?” she asked. “I’ll bring over one of my suitcases. I can pack everything in and wheel it over to Mr Gold’s place.”

“Good idea. Oh!” Ruby bounced on her toes. “I’ll give you one of Granny’s apple pies to take around. That’s Bae’s favourite. And tell them I said to get well soon.”

Belle smiled.

“I will.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Belle was walking back to Mr Gold’s house, pulling her suitcase with one hand and carrying a box containing an apple pie and a package of chocolate chip cookies in the crook of her arm. The suitcase was a little heavier than it should have been; she had also packed a small overnight bag which was stowed beneath the accounting records. 

Belle had decided that Mr Gold and his son needed help, and that they were unlikely to get it from anyone but her in the current climate. She was prepared for Gold to insist that he could do everything himself, but it was clear that he was holding on by his fingernails. If he accepted her help, perhaps he could at last get some rest.

Knocking on the front door of his house, she could hear faint coughing from above, then silence. She knocked again, and eventually Gold opened the door, looking drawn and exhausted. He smiled warmly, though, and stood aside as Belle entered, careful not to touch her.

“Ruby sends her love,” said Belle, marching through to the kitchen and hearing him close the front door. “She says that Granny’s quite sick, but she thinks she’s over the worst of it.”

“That’s good to know.”

She slid the box onto the table, turning on her toes to face him.

“She sent over an apple pie, and some cookies,” she added, and Gold’s face broke into a smile.

“That was very kind of her,” he said. “Thank you for doing that, I’ll make a start on those books tonight.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” she said sternly. “You’re dead on your feet. Please, take some rest. Just - just lie down for a few hours, get some sleep.”

Gold sighed, rubbing an eye, and she could feel the weariness rolling off him in waves.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I have to care for Bae. There’s no one else.”

“There’s me,” said Belle gently. “I can help. Please - I want to.”

He seemed to be wavering, clutching at the handle of his cane so hard his knuckles were white. She wondered if stubbornness was all that was keeping him upright.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “That’s - that’s very kind of you, Miss French. If you could keep an eye on Bae while I snatch a few hours of sleep, I’d be obliged.”

“Of course,” she said. “And you can call me Belle.”

He smiled faintly.

“My name’s Rum.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joylee56 prompted: 12: “So… apparently we’re in lockdown.”

Once Gold had gone to bed, Belle cleaned up in the kitchen, washing the cups and saucers (and her hands) and wiping down all the surfaces and furniture with disinfectant. She knew she was taking a chance by staying with the Golds, but if she was careful, perhaps she would be alright. There was only silence from the bedrooms, and she hoped that Bae and Gold were getting the rest they needed.

A quick check of the fridge found it well-stocked with milk, eggs, cheese and fresh vegetables. They certainly wouldn’t starve. She made another pot of tea, and put the pie that Ruby had given her in the fridge, and the packet of cookies in the bread box. Perhaps Bae could be persuaded to have some later. 

The door of the kitchen led out onto a rear porch, and Belle carried her tea out to sit on the wooden bench overlooking the garden. It was a cold day, but sunny, and she was warm enough bundled up in her coat. The house sat on the farthest edge of town, bordered by woods at the rear. Reddish trunks of pine stood like sentinels around the perimeter, their branches covered with shining coats of dark green needles. The garden itself contained rows of vegetables, kale and beets and carrots thriving now that the snows had passed, a small greenhouse in the sunniest spot containing trays of seedlings. There were rows of bamboo canes tied together in pyramids, no doubt awaiting beans and peas, and squares of damp, dark earth that had been cleared for planting, She imagined she now had an explanation for the jars of homemade produce in the kitchen. The thought made her smile, even as she wondered how Gold managed to make time to rest.

She drank her tea, leaning back on the bench and listening to cheerful birdsong from the trees. Storybrooke seemed a pleasant town, from the short time she had spent there, and its inhabitants friendly and helpful, for the most part. She decided that she had made the right choice to move there. Pandemic or no pandemic.

The sound of a car engine made her look around curiously, and she picked up her cup and walked down from the porch, around the side of the house. A police cruiser had pulled up outside, and for a moment her heart was in her throat, thinking it was bad news. A young blonde woman got out, nodding to Belle and smiling briefly to lift her grim expression.

“Hey, don’t look so scared, I’m not here to arrest anyone,” she said, walking up to the fence. “I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Sheriff Swan. Emma Swan.”

“Uh - Belle French,” said Belle, still hovering near the front porch. “I’m the new librarian.”

Emma looked interested at that.

“Oh yeah?” she said. “My kid’s been going on at me for weeks, ever since we heard about the library opening up again. I keep telling him he’ll have to wait to check out books.”

“Well, as soon as I _ can _open up, I’ll let you know,” said Belle, with a smile. 

“Great! Trying to entertain a ten-year-old’s pretty much a full-time job now school’s out.” Emma frowned slightly as she looked up at the house. “I thought I heard you were taking the apartment above the library.”

“Oh, this isn’t my house,” said Belle hastily. “I just came over to help out a - a friend.”

“Ah.” Emma winced. “Well, you might want to get home while you can. I’m doing a house-to-house, letting everyone know about the lockdown.”

“There’s definitely a lockdown, then?” said Belle anxiously, and she nodded.

“Yep. Starting eight this evening. The Mayor did a radio broadcast earlier, and it’ll be repeated every half-hour, but for anyone that didn’t hear it, I’m doing the rounds.”

Belle took a step closer.

“What - what does that mean?” she asked. “What’s being locked down?”

“Whole town,” said Emma. “Everyone in Storybrooke is being told to stay in their homes. Only people allowed out are hospital workers, police, and a handful of people who’ve already had the virus and have been issued with permits to make essential deliveries.”

“For how long?”

“Next three weeks, to start with,” said Emma. “Theory is, it’ll stop the virus spreading, let the doctors treat those that already have it, wipe the thing out. That’s the theory, anyway. It’ll only work if everyone plays their part, so if you need to get home, I’d go now.”

Belle chewed her lip.

“But - but they’re both sick,” she said. “Father and son. They won’t be able to care for each other.”

Emma looked troubled. 

“Look, I can ask at the hospital to see if there’s any space, but I doubt it,” she said. “They’re overwhelmed right now. That’s the reason for the lockdown.”

Belle took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Then I’ll stay here, and wait it out with them,” she said. “I can take care of them.”

“In that case, I’ll add your name to the list at this address,” said Emma, and reached inside the car to pull out a clipboard. “Belle French, right? I’ll put you down as staying with the Golds. That way they’ll know to deliver extra groceries.”

“Who’s delivering groceries?”

“If we want people to obey the lockdown, we need to make sure they eat,” explained Emma. “The Mayor’s organised a distribution centre at the docks. Small team of people with the all-clear will be making up boxes of groceries for every household, to be delivered twice per week. That way all the damn hoarding stops, there’s enough to go around, and people stay off the streets.”

“Right.”

“You’ll get your first delivery Friday,” added Emma. “Remember: after eight tonight, the lockdown begins. I see anyone out after that, it’s a big-ass fine, got it?”

“Got it,” said Belle hurriedly, and Emma smiled again.

“Well, good luck,” she said. “You tell Mr Gold and his son to get well soon, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Sheriff.”

Emma nodded to her, and set off to the next house. Belle went back around to the rear of the house, climbing the steps to the porch and heading back inside. She poured herself another cup of tea and drank it seated at the table, thinking. A glance at the kitchen clock showed that it was approaching five. Lockdown in three hours.

She looked around sharply at the sound of coughing from upstairs, and put down her cup, climbing the stairs and keeping her ears pricked. The coughing sound came again, from Bae’s bedroom, and she opened the door to peer in.

“Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

Bae glanced around, taking shallow, rapid breaths.

“Not great,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Where’s Papa?”

“He’s sleeping,” said Belle, slipping into the room. “I think he’s exhausted.”

Bae nodded, and coughed again, face pushed into the crook of his arm. Belle spied a thermometer on the nightstand.

“Let’s take your temperature,” she suggested. “Did you drink all your honey and lemon?”

“Yeah. Is there any more?”

“I can make you some. Let’s check that fever first.”

Bae stuck the thermometer in his mouth obediently, lying back against the pillows. Belle waited, hovering in the doorway until it beeped, and he took it out, squinting at the digital screen.

“One hundred,” he said.

“Still a little higher than normal, then,” she said. “I think the medication must have helped, but we’ll check again in an hour or so. You get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

Bae wriggled back down in the covers, watching her with dark eyes that seemed a little brighter than they had been. Belle smiled again.

“I’ll get you your honey and lemon,” she said.

“Thanks.”

She closed the door, pausing on the landing as she looked around. There were two doors to the left of her, and she turned the handle of the furthest one cautiously, opening it as quietly as she could. A bathroom, with a corner shower and bath. The door next to it was a linen closet, with piles of neatly-folded towels and bedsheets. Which made the door on the other side of the landing Gold’s bedroom. She tiptoed closer, pausing outside to listen, but there was nothing but silence. Belle hoped that he was sleeping. At least there was no sound of coughing. 

She went back down the stairs, pausing halfway down as she realised something. _ Two bedrooms. Two beds. Oh. Bugger. _

Hesitating, she glanced back up, thinking. _ Well, I can’t leave them alone. I’ll have to sleep on the couch. _ Nodding to herself, she reached the foot of the stairs and turned right instead of left, opening the door that led to the lounge. She paused in the doorway, looking around curiously. There was an old couch and a squashy armchair, both stacked with red cushions. A wooden coffee table was atop a rag rug, and a TV on a stand was against the opposite wall. Shelves filled with books lined the walls, and in the other half of the room behind the couch was a box of toys and, of all things, a loom and spinning wheel. Belle’s mouth fell open at that, and she walked closer, eyes roaming over the objects. A skein of yarn was taking shape on the wheel, and the loom held a thin section of woollen cloth, a deep cobalt blue with what looked like the beginnings of an edging pattern in a paler shade. _ Well. This man is just full of surprises. _

Having satisfied herself that there was a couch, and that it looked comfortable enough, Belle closed the door, heading back to the kitchen. She made up the hot honey and lemon for Bae, and after a moment’s hesitation made another cup for Gold, stirring them well and gazing out over the garden. The sun was heading towards the horizon, casting a warm glow over the rows of vegetables, and she glanced at the clock. _ Five-thirty. I’ll see if they want some dinner. _

She carried the cups upstairs, careful not to spill. Bae smiled at her when she gave him his, and she crept along the landing to Gold’s bedroom. Hesitating, she knocked quietly on the door, hoping that if he was asleep, she wouldn’t disturb him.

“Come in.”

Gold sounded tired, but she opened the door, peering in. He was in bed, sitting up with his elbows on his raised knees and running a hand through his hair. He wore a T-shirt, which clung to his chest and arms. His muscles were small and wiry, and she suspected he was strong for his size. He sent her a tired smile.

“Hey,” she said, setting the cup down on his nightstand and stepping back. “I was making one for Bae, so I figured I’d make one for you.”

“Thank you. That was kind.” 

He picked up the cup, breathing in the fragrant steam. 

“How’s Bae?”

“He still has a fever, but only a mild one. I’ll check it again after dinner.”

“I’m not sure if he’ll eat anything,” said Gold. “Hasn’t had much of an appetite these past few days.”

“Maybe Granny’s apple pie will change that,” she suggested, and he smiled.

“Maybe so. There should be some ice cream in the freezer. Not exactly a balanced meal, but as long as he eats something, I’m happy.”

“I’ll see if he wants some.” She put her head to the side. “What about you?”

He wrinkled his nose much as Bae had done, and sighed.

“I suppose I should eat something,” he said. “Keep my strength up, and all that. There are meals in the freezer. All home-cooked and labelled. Anything will do.”

“Okay.”

He took a sip of his drink. Belle bounced on her toes, and he glanced up at her.

“Are you alright?”

“The Sheriff stopped by,” she said. “So… apparently we’re in lockdown.”

“Lockdown?”

Belle nodded.

“Three weeks. Starting at eight. On pain of—in her words—a big-ass fine.”

“Oh.” Gold ran a hand over his face. “Well. I knew it was serious. That’ll hit some people hard.”

“The Mayor has ordered a small group to make up and distribute grocery parcels,” she said. “First one gets here Friday.”

“That’s something, I suppose.” He took another drink, and set down his cup. “Thanks for everything you’ve done, Belle. You should go before the lockdown starts.”

“What? No, I’m going to stay!” she protested. “You’re sick, you can’t care for Bae and yourself alone!”

“And if you stay here with us, you’ll get sick too.”

“Not if I’m careful,” she said, and gestured between them. “See? Social distancing. And I’ve been washing my hands every five seconds, it feels like. I can do this.”

He shook his head, but it seemed more surprise than denial. A tiny, tired smile was curving the corners of his mouth.

“I’m afraid there’s only one bed,” he said. “If you give me an hour or so to pull myself together, I can remake this and take the couch. At least you’ll have somewhere comfortable to sleep.”

“_I’m _taking the couch,” she said firmly. “You stay there until you’re better, got it?”

She fixed him with a stare, and after a moment Gold sighed and nodded.

“Okay, I don’t have the energy to argue,” he said. “But when all this is over, Belle, I’m gonna try to make it up to you. Don’t know how yet, but I’ll try.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rowofstars prompted: 30: "I've been practising social isolation for years anyway"

Once she had satisfied herself that Gold would be staying in bed, Belle decided to head out to collect a few more of her things. If she was going to be staying with the Golds for the duration of the lockdown, she would need more than one change of clothes. She glanced at the inn as she passed, wondering how Ruby and Granny were doing, and how they would fare after three weeks with no income. At least if the Mayor was organising grocery deliveries, no one would starve. 

Bag packed, she checked that the library and apartment were locked up, and glanced at her watch. It was six-forty, and she hurried back, aware of the clock ticking down to eight p.m. Few residents were out in the streets, those that were hurrying with bulging bags of groceries. The clink of bottles came from most of them; some people would be drinking their way through the lockdown, it seemed. She supposed it was one way to cope.

The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon in a blaze of orange, spilling warm light across the town and sending her shadow stretching out in front of her as she headed east along the road towards the edge of town, and the forest that hugged its border. Gold’s house looked bright and cheerful in the setting sun, and she closed the gate behind her, hurrying up the path. Closing and locking the door behind herself felt almost like relief, and she carried her bag into the lounge, stowing it by the side of the couch and heading to the kitchen to wash her hands.

Gold had said he would eat something if she made it, so she checked the freezer, finding it full of glass dishes with lids, each containing enough food for a large portion for one or—as she suspected—modest portions for two. Each dish had its own handwritten label: _ spicy veg bake, mac & cheese, shepherd’s pie, chicken casserole. _ Glancing at the chalkboard with its meal plan, she noticed that he had written _ shepherd’s pie, broccoli and carrots _ for that day, so she took one of the dishes out of the freezer, setting it on the worktop and taking the apple pie from the fridge. It took her a little time to work out how to use the oven; it was old, and the markings around the dials had faded almost to nothing. After some difficulty, she managed to turn it on, and left it heating up before heading upstairs to check on Bae. He was still curled up in bed, blinking at her sleepily from his blankets.

“Let’s check that fever again,” she said, and he sat up, putting the thermometer in his mouth. She waited until the thermometer beeped, and Bae squinted at it.

“One-oh-oh-point-nine,” he said, and Belle frowned.

“It’s going up again,” she said, and glanced at her watch. “You should take another one of those pills. We need to bring your fever down to help you sleep.”

She pushed one of the paracetamol from its packet, and Bae took it obediently, though he pulled a face at the taste, and coughed into the crook of his arm after he had swallowed. Belle wanted to stroke his hair to send him some comfort, but it was unwise to touch him any more than was necessary, so she kept her hands at her sides.

“How do you feel?” she asked kindly, and Bae pulled a face.

“Everything hurts.”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” she said. “It will until you get better, I expect. Are you hungry?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Ruby sent over some chocolate chip cookies,” she added. “And an apple pie.”

There was a mild look of interest at that.

“Apple pie?” he said. “From Granny’s?”

“Mhmm.” Belle smiled to herself. “I usually like my apple pie warm with ice cream. How about you?”

“Yeah!” said Bae. “Can I have a piece? Did Papa say it’s okay?”

“He did. Let me get you some.”

She turned towards the door, reaching for the handle.

“How is Papa?”

Belle turned back slowly, and Bae was watching her anxiously.

“He was in bed last time I checked,” she said. “I was going to make him some dinner, so I’ll check on him again.”

“Okay. Tell him I’m sorry I made him sick.”

“Oh…” Belle stepped closer. “Sweetie, it’s not your fault. This disease is all over town.”

“I know,” said Bae soberly. “And Papa had to go out to get me medicine.”

“And I’m sure he’d do it again in a heartbeat,” she said gently. “You two really look after each other, don’t you? Quite the team.”

He smiled at that.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“That’s why I know you’re both gonna be fine,” she said. “I bet you have plans for things you want to do together when you’re better, right?”

“When it’s warmer, I’m gonna help plant the peas and beans,” said Bae immediately. “And Papa said we can go fishing on Leroy’s boat!”

“There,” she said. “That sounds like a lot of fun to have once you’re both well, hmm? So you rest and get better, and before you know it, you’ll be helping your papa catch those fish.”

Bae’s smile grew a little.

“Okay,” he said, settling back in the pillows.

“I’ll bring you a piece of pie,” she said.

It seemed to take her twice as long to do things as it normally would, and she put this down to trying to find her way around a strange kitchen. Once she had worked out the system Gold had for the cupboard contents it was easier; he seemed to be meticulously organised in everything he did. She found a head of broccoli in the fridge, and some carrots that looked to be fresh from the garden, still with dark earth clinging to them.

She took Bae his apple pie, warmed through and with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and was pleased to see him sit up and look enthusiastic about eating it. Her feet were hurting after a day of being on them, and she flopped down in the chair beside his bed with a sigh as he began eating. _ Five minutes. Five minutes and I’ll check on that food. I should check on Rum, too. He’s been very quiet. _

Bae licked ice cream from his spoon, eyeing her curiously. There was a drip on his chin, a pale yellow streak running down from his lower lip. He blinked, seeming to notice it, and used the spoon to scrape it off, licking it clean again. He smacked his lips, looking thoughtful.

“Are you Papa’s girlfriend?” he asked suddenly, and Belle felt her mouth drop open.

“Oh! No, no we just met,” she said hurriedly. “I’ve only been in town three weeks. Haven’t really had time to get to know anyone.”

“Oh.” Bae dug in the pie with his spoon. “That’s okay. Granny keeps saying he should find one, and since you went to Granny’s for pie, I thought maybe it was you.”

Belle tried to hold in her giggles, even as a blush was rising in her cheeks.

“I didn’t see Granny,” she said. “Ruby gave me the pie. She said it was your favourite.”

“It is. Well, I like the pumpkin too, but they won’t have that until fall. Ruby’s the coolest. She gives me cookies!”

“She seems to like you a lot,” said Belle, and he grinned.

“She’s like Red the wolf-girl in my book,” he said.

“What book is that?”

“The Enchanted Forest. It’s my _ favourite_.”

Belle glanced at the nightstand, where a thick, hardback book sat. She patted it with a hand.

“This one?”

“Yeah. Red’s a werewolf. And she kind of eats someone, but it isn’t her fault! And - and her Granny is a werewolf too, but she can control it. And she has a crossbow! Granny, not Red.”

“Sounds like an exciting story,” she said, and Bae nodded vigorously.

“It’s just one of the stories,” he said. “There’s a whole bunch of ‘em. Sometimes I like to pretend that they’re stories about people in Storybrooke.”

“Like Ruby and Red the wolf-girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Belle put her head to the side. “Well, I have to take your Dad some food, but I could read to you later, if you like.”

“Yes please.”

“Okay then.” she pushed to her feet. “I’ll be back to collect your bowl, okay?”

“Thanks, Belle.”

Belle smiled to herself as she picked up the thermometer and left the room. _ A sweet boy. Kind and thoughtful. Like his father. _

She washed the thermometer and her hands thoroughly, and paused outside Gold’s bedroom, listening. There was no sound from within, so she knocked quietly, hearing a muffled sound that might have been an invitation to enter. She opened the door, eyes widening as she took in the sight of Gold curled into a ball in the blankets, shivering.

“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shook his head a little, and she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Can you sit up?” she prompted. “We should check your fever.”

It seemed to take a lot of effort for him to turn over onto his back, but he managed it, and Belle pushed the thermometer into his mouth. She could almost feel the heat coming from him, and Gold sighed, the thermometer bouncing on his lower lip.

“I don’t need to read that thing to know you’re burning up,” she said.

He gave her a weary shrug, and the thermometer beeped. Belle took it out, shaking her head at the reading.

“One-oh-three,” she said. “No wonder you feel bad. You should take some of that paracetamol.”

Gold shook his head.

“Bae needs it.”

“So do you,” she insisted.

“I’ll be okay.”

He let his head fall back against the pillows with a heavy sigh, and Belle shook her head.

“Please,” she said. “It might help you sleep. At least take two tonight. I’m sure I could get whoever’s bringing the groceries on Friday to drop off some more.”

“What if there aren’t any more?”

“There will be,” she said firmly. “Deliveries are still being made, and the Mayor is dividing everything up to distribute to the townsfolk. You don’t have to suffer, Bae will be just fine. I promise.”

Gold pushed himself up on shaking arms, hair falling over his face. He was sweating, the white T-shirt showing wet patches on his chest and beneath his arms. He ran his hands over his face with a sigh, and Belle’s heart went out to him.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Eating apple pie and ice cream,” she said, making him smile. “And worrying about you. He says it’s his fault you’re sick. Don’t give him any more reason to worry.”

Gold gave her a level look.

“Emotional blackmail, hmm?” he said dryly.

“For your own good.”

His mouth twitched a little.

“Well, perhaps you’re right,” he said. 

“Good,” she said. “Let me get your pills. I was making you some dinner, as well.”

Gold pulled a face.

“Not hungry.”

“I know, but you need to keep up your strength,” she said. “You should drink some water, too. You’re sweating.”

He looked down at himself, as though he hadn’t noticed, and nodded.

“Yes. Would you mind bringing some more? If it’s not too much trouble?”

“I’ll bring some up with the food,” she said. “Just eat what you can.”

“Did you make something for yourself, too?”

“I’ll have what you’re having. Which is shepherd’s pie. I did some broccoli and carrots with it.”

“Thank you.” He sent her a weary smile. “Make sure you get home before it gets dark.”

“Lockdown, remember?” she said. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the next three weeks.”

“Of course. Sorry, my brain’s fried.” He rubbed his eyes. “I offered you my bed, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and I told you I’d sleep on the couch,” she said. “That hasn’t changed, so stay where you are.”

“You should have left while you could,” he said, with a grin. “I’m afraid sharing a house with two invalids is going to be fairly dull even without the lack of contact with the outside world.”

“I think I can handle it.”

He smiled at that, and she pursed her lips.

“Besides,” she said. “I couldn’t leave you two suffering in social isolation. No matter how much the Mayor’s guidelines tell me to.”

Gold’s smile was rueful.

“I’ve been practising social isolation for years, anyway,” he said, and she giggled.

“Well, looks like I’m here to change all that.”

He nodded, his eyes warm as he looked at her, despite his evident tiredness.

“It’s very good of you to stay and help us,” he said. “You have your own life, your own concerns. You’re putting yourself in danger just being here.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to get any rest back home,” she said simply, “knowing I’d turned my back on a sick family when I could have helped.”

“Even so,” he said. “You didn’t have to do it. I’m grateful, Belle. Truly.”

“Well,” she said. “When you live in a small town, you help each other out, right? I’m just trying to fit in.”

His smile grew.

“You fit in just perfectly.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @joylee56 prompted: 38: "Don't worry, he's going to be fine!"

Belle prepared the dinner, dividing the shepherd’s pie and vegetables between two plates and carrying one upstairs with cutlery for Gold. She had already taken him water, and was pleased to see he had drunk half of the jug. He was curled on his side, the blankets pulled close around him, and she felt bad for making him sit up when he clearly felt so wretched. He tried to push himself upright on arms that shook, and she bit her lip in distress.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “But you really should eat something. If only to help you fight this fever.”

“Yes.”

His voice was thin and tired, and she put the tray of food on his dresser, grabbing two pillows from the other side of the bed and using them to help prop him up. Gold sank back into them with a sigh, eyes closed, and she tucked the blankets around him.

“How’s Bae?” he asked, as she put the tray on his knees.

“He ate the pie,” she said. “He needs to stay in bed, though. His fever is still high.”

Gold shook his head.

“I should go and see him.”

“You should rest,” she said softly. “Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine!”

“Right.” He poked at the food with his fork, lifting it up and letting minced lamb and gravy drip onto the mashed potato topping. “I usually read him a story from that book of his.”

“I said I’d read to him,” she said. “Does he have a drink before bed?”

“Warm milk, usually,” he said. “I put some cinnamon and a spoonful of honey in it. He’ll need to brush his teeth afterwards.”

Belle smiled at his concern for his son.

“I’ll make sure he does,” she said. “I get the feeling that seeing a dentist might be a little tricky in the weeks to come.”

Gold smiled faintly, and took a mouthful of food. She heard the scrape of his teeth against the steel tines of the fork, and he pulled a face.

“Can’t taste a bloody thing.”

“Well, I had a taste when I plated up,” she said briskly. “It’s delicious. Compliments to the chef.”

He grinned at that.

“You should be eating your own dinner, not worrying about me,” he said. “Go on, Belle. I promise to eat as much as I can.”

“Okay. I’ll be up later to collect the tray.”

She looked in on Bae before going back downstairs, and he was curled on his side with his eyes closed, much as his father had been. It made her frown; she had hoped that the food might perk him up a little. She made the warm milk, eating her own dinner while it heated through on the stove. The warm scent of cinnamon filled the air, and she wished she had made some for herself. _ Perhaps tomorrow. _

Bae was flushed and sleepy when she went upstairs, but he sat up to drink his milk while Belle read from _ The Enchanted Forest_. It was a strange tale of a blind witch who lured children to her gingerbread house to eat them, a play on the Hansel and Gretel tale. When she had finished the chapter, the witch defeated and the children searching for their father in the midst of a dark forest, she looked up at Bae. He was staring into his empty cup, his eyes half-closed.

“Time for sleep, I think,” she said gently, and he looked across.

“Can I say goodnight to Papa?”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” she said, taking his cup. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and see how he’s doing?”

She held back a little while, hovering in the bedroom while Bae brushed his teeth. He was a little unsteady on his feet, and seemed subdued, so she wanted to take his temperature again. She could hear a murmur of voices as he went into Gold’s room, and so she slipped out of the bedroom to peer through the door, smiling a little at the scene before her. Bae was curled against his father’s chest, Gold’s thin arms around him. 

“I’m not feeling good,” said Bae. “I’m sorry I made you sick, Papa.”

“Not your fault,” said Gold, his voice muffled by Bae’s hair. “Besides, I’ll be better soon. You know I hardly ever get sick, right?”

“I know you _ pretend _ not to be sick, but that’s not the same thing.”

Gold chuckled, and coughed hollowly, making Bae sit up, a worried look on his face.

“Not much gets past you, does it, son?” said Gold, with a soft look in his eyes. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yeah.” Bae wrinkled his nose. “You should brush _ yours_. You smell of onions.”

“Thanks for that,” said Gold, in a wry tone. He glanced up, seeming to notice Belle for the first time. “Did you thank Belle for making you supper?”

“He did,” said Belle, smiling. “He’s a very polite young man.”

“Good lad.” Gold kissed his son’s cheek. “You sleep well, now. I’ll be better tomorrow, you’ll see.”

“Okay. ‘Night, Papa. ‘Night, Belle.”

“Goodnight.”

Belle watched him go, and Gold flopped back against the pillows with a low groan, the energy seeming to flow out of him.

“He still has a fever,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, I figured. I gave him another pill. He probably shouldn’t have any more until tomorrow.”

“Yes.” He rubbed his hands over his face.

“What about you?” asked Belle, glancing at the dinner tray, with its almost half-finished food. “You ate a little. That’s good.”

“Better to give myself a little strength, I thought,” he said. “I’ll get some sleep. Might help me kick this thing.”

Belle privately thought it would take more than a decent night’s sleep to rid him of the virus, but she merely nodded.

“In that case I’ll say goodnight,” she said. “Do you have any blankets I could use to make up a bed on the couch?”

“Uh - cupboard on the landing,” he said, gesturing weakly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t let you bed down on the couch.”

“Well, I can’t exactly get in there with you,” she remarked, making him grin. “I’ll be fine. I’m small, I can curl up and be quite comfortable, I’m sure.”

His grin widened, but he began to cough, sitting forward as he did so to cover his face with the blankets. Belle instinctively took a step back from him, clutching the tray to her chest, and when the coughing stopped he sat still for a moment, face pushed into the blankets, only his eyes visible, watching her with something like helplessness. He sat up slowly, letting the blankets drop into his lap.

“You should go,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to give you this, Belle.”

“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked worriedly. “Pills, or—”

He shook his head.

“I don’t want to take too many and find that there are no more to be had in this town,” he said. “Bae’s not out of the woods yet.”

Belle bit her lip anxiously. _ Stubborn. God, I hope there are going to be paracetamol in those grocery packages. I’ll call the Mayor’s office tomorrow and ask. He’ll need them before this thing’s over. _

“Okay,” she said aloud. “But if you need anything, just call, okay?”

He nodded tiredly.

“Better clean my teeth,” he muttered. “Your point about the dentist was well made. As was Bae’s about my onion breath, I imagine.”

He heaved a breath, coughing, and pulled back the blankets, swinging his legs out of bed and pausing for a moment before pushing to his feet. His legs wobbled, as though they were about to pitch him onto his face, and he grasped the cane leaning against the nightstand, limbs shaking as he got his balance. Belle had taken an instinctive pace forward, but stepped back, reminding herself that they should be having as little contact as possible. Gold nodded to her with a brief smile, and made his way slowly to the bathroom, bracing himself with one hand against the wall.

She hesitated, tray in her hands, but as the sound of running water started up she went downstairs to wash the dishes.

The house was quiet, only the tick of the clock in the kitchen making any sound. Belle dried her hands and wiped down the kitchen counters of any stray splashes before creeping upstairs to retrieve some blankets from the cupboard. She managed to make up a cosy bed on the couch with the pillows and a crocheted throw over the top, and after a moment’s hesitation went to change into her PJs in the bathroom. It wasn’t late, by any means, but there was a good selection of books in the lounge, and she could curl up in bed and read until she was tired. She paused on the landing, listening outside first Bae’s bedroom and then Gold’s. There was no sound of coughing from either of them, and she hoped that meant that they would get some rest. She was praying to whoever would listen that they would both recover quickly. Tiptoeing downstairs, she slipped under the blankets and picked up the book she had chosen. Getting to sleep on a couch in a strange house might prove to be tricky, but she would get used to it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @kelyon prompted: 45: "I won't leave you, I promise"

The sound of coughing woke Belle.

At first she was disorientated, surrounded by unfamiliar shapes, the light coming from the wrong angle and the room smelling of orange oil and raw wool. She struggled with the blankets over her, fingers catching in crocheted patterns as she sat up, and then she remembered where she was. The Gold house, curled up on the couch. Where she would be for the next three weeks while the town was in lockdown.

The coughing came again, followed by a dull thump, and Belle scrabbled at her makeshift bed, untangling her legs and almost falling to the floor in her haste. She headed for the stairs, taking two at a time, and almost collided with Gold as he loomed out of the darkness. He started, stepping back on one foot, his shoulder pressed against the wall and his cane grasped tightly in the other hand. Belle took a step back too, keeping her distance.

“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously. “I thought I heard someone fall.”

“Yeah, that was me.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No no, it’s fine, it’s just - I was worried.” She stepped aside to let him past. “Please, get back into bed.”

Gold nodded wearily, shuffling along the corridor to his bedroom, and Belle chewed her lip as he started coughing again. He reached for the door with a hand that shook, pushing it open and almost falling into his bed. She edged closer, peering through the doorway, and he was lying on top of the bed with his head thrown back, his thin chest rising and falling too rapidly. She glanced at his water jug, and it was almost empty, the glass beside it lying on its side.

“I’ll get you more water,” she said, and snatched up the jug.

When she returned, he had managed to pull the blankets over himself and was shivering. Belle fetched the thermometer, sticking it in his mouth as she filled his water glass. The reading made her heart clench. 

“I don’t like this,” she said. “You’re one-oh-four, you need to take something.”

“Can’t.”

“You _ can_,” she said firmly. “I’m surprised you’re not hallucinating.”

“Oh, I’ve seen plenty of terrible things, let me tell you,” he whispered.

“That’s it.” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re taking those pills. I’ll get some more if I have to personally bribe the Mayor, but you’re taking them, got it?”

“God, you’re tenacious!” he said wearily. 

“You won’t be able to care for Bae if you end up in the ICU,” she warned, and he sighed.

“Fine. You’re right, of course. Give me the pills.”

He coughed again, the movement seeming to propel him upwards into a sitting position before collapsing back with a low moan, and Belle hurried to find the tablets, bringing him two and watching like a hawk as he drank them down with some water. His hair was hanging in his face, strands of it sticking to his cheeks, and she resisted the urge to brush it back.

“Try to drink some more,” she said. “You’ll dehydrate.”

Gold drank another glass of water, and she poured more for him, stepping back from the bed as he settled back in the pillows with a sigh. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and she felt a pang of fear at the thought that his condition might worsen, that it might become pneumonia. Lockdown didn’t include emergency services; if he got really bad, she could always call an ambulance.

“Do you have health insurance?” she asked.

“Yes - well, sort of.” He sounded a little breathless. “I can’t really afford to get too sick, but I’m sure this is as bad as it’ll get. I’ll be alright, I swear it.”

“What if you’re not?”

“I will be. Have to be.”

Belle sighed. _ Stubborn. Maybe stubborn enough to beat this thing. _

“Alright,” she said. “But if you get worse and we have to get you to hospital, I'm getting you there somehow."

“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”

He began coughing again, sitting up and covering his face with the blankets, and Belle winced at the hollow sound he made.

“You don’t sound so good,” she said. “Is your throat sore?”

Gold nodded, wincing.

“Can I get you some honey and lemon?” she asked anxiously, and he nodded again, eyeing her over the top of the blankets as the coughing subsided.

“Please.”

She went out, pausing outside Bae’s door to listen. There was no sound of coughing from within, so she hoped that he, at least, was getting some decent sleep. The house was dark, the floor creaking beneath her feet, and she struggled to find a light switch, fingers scrabbling at the wall. It was cold, and she shivered, wishing she had thought to put something on over her PJs. 

After putting the kettle on to boil, she went back into the lounge to pull on her slippers and wrap the crocheted blanket around herself like a heavy shawl, the edge dragging on the floor behind her as she made her way back to the kitchen. The sound of coughing came from above, and she looked up with a frown. _ I hope he’s gonna be okay. How will Bae cope with his father so sick? If he does have to go to hospital, what will happen? I know he said Granny helps, but she has the inn and the diner to run. Well, I’ll just have to help out as much as I can. The library won’t be opening any time soon, I shouldn’t think. _

She decided that she would make herself a drink, too, and found some chamomile tea in the cupboard. The coughing sound started up again, and she shook her head, cutting some lemon slices and putting them in a cup with some honey. _ This won’t cure him, but at least it’ll give him some energy and vitamins. I need to call the Mayor’s office and ask about medicine. Is the Mayor’s office even going to be open? How is this lockdown being coordinated if no one’s supposed to leave their house? What if no one comes with groceries after all, and we’re on our own? _

Belle paused, recognising a trickle of fear running through her, and told herself firmly that panic wouldn’t help anyone, least of all the sick man upstairs. She poured hot water into the cups, stirring his drink to dissolve the honey, and carried the cups up the stairs.

Gold appeared to have stopped coughing, and was sitting up against his pillows when she entered. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“A little more human,” he said, flicking back his hair. “The pills must be working, so thank you for making me take them.”

“I’ll be doing that again tomorrow,” she said briskly, and there was a soft chuckle from him.

He nodded his thanks as she put the drink on his nightstand, and she sat down in the chair in the corner, curling her feet under her and wrapping the blanket around her legs. He smiled slightly.

“I see you’re making use of my blanket.”

“I am.” She tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “Did - did you make this?”

Another smile.

“I did. Years ago. It’s travelled all over the north-east with us.”

“I saw your loom, and - and a spinning wheel,” said Belle. “Do you actually spin?”

“I do indeed actually spin,” he said. “And weave. Hadn’t done it in years, not since before my ex-wife and I got together, and then not until Bae and I moved to Storybrooke and we had the space. Relatively speaking.”

“I never met anyone who had a spinning wheel,” she said. “I thought it would be easier to just buy yarn.”

“Oh, it is,” he agreed. “But there’s a satisfaction that comes from making your own, and it gets me through the winter nights. Helps me relax, helps me think. Something to do other than watch the television. Bae likes to help with the dying process.”

“Where do you get the wool?” she asked, and he took a sip of his drink. 

“The Nolans have a sheep farm just outside town,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. “I occasionally trade pickles and jam for wool.”

Belle smiled delightedly. _ Small town bartering, sharing resources, people helping each other out in times of need... I love this place. I was right to come here. _

“Do you sell the yarn?” she asked, and he pulled a face.

“Not really. I occasionally give a skein or two to Granny, but I tend to use it all for my own purposes.”

“And the loom?” she said. “I can see there’s something taking shape on there.”

Gold smiled.

“I’m making a shawl. Any money I make from work tends to go on essentials, so if I want to give gifts, I usually have to make them.”

“So who’s the lucky recipient?” she asked, and his smile grew.

“Don’t know yet, but I like to be prepared.”

He coughed, covering his mouth with his hand, and Belle shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be making you talk.”

“No, it’s okay.” His voice was hoarser than before, and he took another sip of the honey and lemon. “It’s nice to talk. Bae and I don’t have a lot of company.”

“You said his mother left when he was four,” she said, remembering their earlier conversation. “Doesn’t she see him at all?”

Gold shook his head, and Belle buried her face in her cup to hide her surprise. _ What sort of mother doesn’t want to see her own son? _

“She didn’t want children,” he added. “Talked about getting Bae adopted as soon as he was born, but there was no way I could agree to that.”

“Of course you couldn’t.” 

Gold took a drink, letting his head roll back against the pillows and turning the cup between his hands, a seemingly nervous gesture.

“She tried, in her own way,” he said quietly. “Caring for a child wasn’t part of her life plan, or so she told me. Wanted to be out having fun. Drinking with her friends, staying out until three a.m. Four years is longer than I expected her to stay, but she was never happy, not even before Bae was born. Can’t blame her for leaving.”

_ What about you? Were you ever happy? _

“You sound like very - different - people,” she said, trying for a diplomatic tone. Gold’s expression told her that he wasn’t entirely convinced by it.

“You could say that,” he said. “It was for the best that she left. For everyone.”

“Well, it looks like you and Bae make a good team,” she said, and he smiled.

“He’s a good lad.”

His throat seemed to catch, and he hastily shoved the cup onto the nightstand just before he started coughing again. Belle sat up, chewing her lip anxiously, and his shoulders shook as he buried his face in the blankets. As the cough subsided he lay back with a gasp, his breathing rapid.

“You should get some rest,” he whispered. “No point in both of us being awake all night.”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” she asked, and he nodded briefly.

Belle got to her feet, tugging the blanket around herself and taking another sip of her tea. Gold was lying back with his hands folded lightly on his belly, his eyes closed and moonlight painting blue highlights on his nose and cheeks.

“Call if you need anything,” she said, and his mouth twitched.

“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered, and opened his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here. I'm glad you decided to stay, I couldn't have managed alone.”

She smiled, taking a step closer.

"Well, you won't have to," she said. "I won't leave you, I promise."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @joylee56 prompted: 35: "I'm used to being alone"

Belle’s eyes snapped open, her heart thumping, and for a moment she thought she was back in her own bed. She was warm and comfortable, but the sound of coughing had woken her, and she pushed herself upright, eyes casting to the ceiling worriedly. It sounded as though both Bae and Gold were suffering. She had hoped that Bae, at least, would have been on the mend.

It was morning, fingers of daylight poking through the curtains, and she swung her legs around and out from beneath the blankets, rubbing her eyes and yawning. The coughing started again, and Belle got to her feet, wrapping the crocheted blanket around herself and tugging on the slippers she had brought before heading up the stairs. 

She looked in on Bae first. He was sitting up against the pillows, his Enchanted Forest book tented on his knees, looking a little sorry for himself.

“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”

“My throat hurts,” he said, his voice croaking. “I hate this stupid cough.”

“I bet.” Belle tilted her head to the side, remembering that she had left the thermometer in Gold’s room. “Do you still have a fever?”

Bae shrugged.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“What can I get you for breakfast?”

“Is there any apple pie left?”

“You want it with ice cream?” she asked, and he nodded. “Okay, but I think your dad might want you to eat a proper meal at some point.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Okay. You want something to drink?”

“Can I have milk?”

Belle smiled.

“I’ll go and get some,” she said. “I want to take your temperature, too. You stay in bed, okay?”

She shut the door, ducking into the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth before knocking softly on Gold’s door. There was a muffled noise from within that might have been an invitation to enter, and so she slipped inside, eyes adjusting to the relative dark of the room, and the shape of him lying prone in the bed, propped up on pillows. She could hear laboured, rattling breath, and chewed her lip anxiously. _ He doesn’t sound good. _

“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”

His head turned slowly towards her, features blurred in the dim light, the points of his eyes and the ridge of his nose picked out by the light from the landing

“Why did you come back?”

His voice was hoarse, whispery, as though he had little strength. She wondered if he’d managed to sleep.

“I didn’t leave,” she said. “I stayed over, remember?”

“Don’t come back,” he rasped. “Not if you’re just gonna break his heart again. Not fair.”

Belle opened her mouth, confused, and shut it again.

“Rum,” she said gently. “It’s me. It’s Belle.”

“Belle?”

Was that surprise in his voice? Relief? _ Must have thought I was his ex. It’s the fever talking. Maybe she was brunette. _

“It’s me.” She stepped further into the room. “It’s just me.”

The sheets rustled, and he ran a hand over his face, exhaling loudly.

“Can you give me some light?”

Belle hurried over to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. Yellowish light spilled across the room, picking out the stubble on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat on his brow. The water jug was empty, his eyes hollow and his thin chest rising and falling rapidly. She tried not to let him see her shock, but a surge of alarm had gone through her at the sight of him. Gold turned his head towards her a little, and she gave him a wobbly smile.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “Must be losing it. For a second there I thought - never mind. I’d forgotten you stayed over. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she said, pushing aside her own curiosity at his reaction. “Your couch is pretty comfy, by the way.”

He smiled slightly at that.

“Shouldn’t have let you sleep on the couch,” he muttered.

“Really, it was fine,” she said. “Besides, you’ll be better soon, I’m sure, but you’ll still be stuck on your own until lockdown ends. I couldn’t leave you alone, could I?”

“I’m used to being alone.”

He ran his hands over his face again, sighing, and Belle shook her head.

“Let’s check that fever,” she suggested, handing him the thermometer. “I’ll get you some water. Bae wants pie for breakfast. Is that okay?”

“I need to make him a proper meal today,” he said, and popped the thermometer in his mouth. Belle put her hands on her hips.

“You’re staying in bed and you know it,” she said firmly. “I can make him dinner. It looks like you have plenty of meals all portioned up. I’m sure I can cook some fresh veg to go with them.”

Gold made a face, though at the thought of food or of her cooking it she was unsure.

“What about you?” she asked. “Breakfast?”

He shook his head.

“What about some tea, then?”

A nod, the thermometer rattling against his teeth as he tried to hold it in place with his lips. 

“He looks a little better,” she said. “I’ll check his fever when I’ve done yours. He’s sitting up in bed, though, and has his appetite back, so I think he’s on the mend.”

Gold gave her a grateful look, and the thermometer beeped. She winced at the reading.

“I’ll get you some water,” she repeated. “And you’re taking two more of those pills. No arguments.”

He shrugged tiredly, as if to say he wasn’t about to fight her on it. Good. She headed downstairs, eyes narrowing as she spotted something on the doormat in the hallway. A leaflet, with the Storybrooke Council logo on the front of it above a telephone number. Belle opened it up, eyes scanning the contents. An explanation of the lockdown, with the reasons for it and the measures that the Mayor’s office was putting in place to ensure people were fed and protected. The grocery packages were mentioned, but the contents were not listed. Belle glanced at the clock. Too early to make a call yet. She headed to the kitchen, dropping the leaflet on the table and taking the apple pie from the fridge.

Bae was still running a fever, but a mild one only. He was also still coughing, but he ate the piece of pie and ice cream and drank his milk. Gold downed two glasses of water as soon as Belle brought the jug, after which he nestled down in the blankets and closed his eyes. She turned off the light and left him to it, figuring he could use the rest.

She made a pot of tea and took him a cup, but Gold didn’t stir when she entered, so she left it on the nightstand and tiptoed out again. Her own breakfast was toast, two thick slices of a delicious malted loaf studded with pumpkin seeds and walnuts, spread with butter and a dark, tangy cherry jam. She ate it on the porch overlooking the rear garden, the blanket around her shoulders keeping the early morning chill from her. There was silence except for the birds chirping in the trees. No passing traffic, no drone of motorbikes, no shouts and squeals of children playing. It was as though Storybrooke was hibernating.

Once breakfast was over and the dishes washed, Belle got dressed, pulling on thick tights and a blue sweater dress. She had decided to leave the Golds resting unless they called on her, which meant she had a few hours to kill. Ordinarily she would have curled up with a book, but first she wanted to get in touch with whoever was going to be delivering their groceries the following day. She retrieved the leaflet that had been delivered, which had a contact telephone number in bold on the front. The phone rang for a long time before being answered.

“Good morning!” came a cheerful voice. “You’re through to Storybrooke City Hall Lockdown Coordination. This is Astrid speaking, how may I help you?”

“Uh - hi,” said Belle. “I had a question about the grocery deliveries.”

“Tuesdays and Fridays,” said Astrid immediately. “I’m afraid we can’t arrange time slots, it could be any time between eight and six. The delivery team will leave the box outside your property.”

“That’s great,” said Belle. “I just had a question about the box contents, that’s all.”

“Oh! Do you have allergies?”

“I - no.”

“Does anyone in the household have allergies?” Astrid talked very quickly, as though she was brimming over with enthusiasm, and Belle was trying not to grin.

“No,” she said. “At least, if they do, I don't know about them. I’m staying with the Gold family, and they’re both sick, father and son.”

“Oh no!”

“Yeah, so I wondered if the boxes would contain medicines of any sort.”

“There’ll be a one-off supply of toiletries and household products in the first delivery,” said Astrid. “I can request that over-the-counter medicines are included. What is it that you need?”

“Just some paracetamol.”

“Okay, but I can’t let you have any more than two packets.”

“That’s fine.”

“Address?”

Belle gave the address, hearing the tapping of keys at the other end of the line.

“It’s too bad they’re both sick,” said Astrid. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

“I think Bae’s on the mend,” said Belle. “Rum is - well, he’s not too good, actually.”

“Well, you tell them to take care from me,” said Astrid. “And you can tell Mr Gold that those alterations he did on Leroy’s coat were just _ wonderful_.”

“I - I will, thank you.”

“Okay, you’re all set for Friday!” said Astrid. “My husband will deliver the box himself. Was there anything else?”

“No no,” said Belle. “Thank you, you’ve been very kind.”

“Well, we all have to look after each other, right?” chirped Astrid brightly. “That’s the great thing about this town!”

Belle thanked her and hung up, smiling slightly. Yes. Deadly disease aside, Storybrooke seemed to be everything she could ever want from the place she would call home. She couldn’t wait to settle in properly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @kelyon prompted: 24: “You can move closer, I don’t bite”

Life at the Golds’ house continued in the same vein for another few days. Bae improved greatly, eating more and looking bright-eyed and restless. Gold was worse, eating little, drinking gallons of water and coughing most of the day. Belle was worried about him, but tried not to let Bae see it.

On Friday morning, they received their first delivery of groceries. Belle had been making a pot of tea when she heard a knock at the door, and she put the lid on the teapot and hurried to open it. A short, stocky man with a bristling black beard and a gruff expression was standing halfway down the path. A beanie hat was pulled down over the tops of his ears, and a thick scarf was wound around his neck. He gestured to the porch, and Belle looked down to see two large cardboard boxes stuffed with food and household items.

“Astrid said to say the medicine’s tucked down the side,” he said. “You tell Mr Gold and his boy to get well soon, you hear?”

“Thank you so much!” called Belle, and the man tapped his forehead with his fingers in a jaunty salute.

Picking up each of the boxes was a struggle; they were both heavy and awkward, but she managed to get her knees under the first and hoist it up into her arms. It was a relief to get to the kitchen and drop it onto the table. She hurried back for the second, and then shut the door again. It was just starting to rain, a fine drizzle coating the grass like dew, and she shivered and locked the door, trotting into the kitchen.

She found the paracetamol and put it aside. There was some cough syrup too, and throat lozenges. There was a four-pack of toilet paper, tampons and pads, some fabric softener and laundry detergent, hand sanitiser, soap and toothpaste, shampoo and shower gel. On the food side, the supplies were basic but useful. Two quarts of milk, a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread. A pack of butter. A block of cheese and a pack of bacon. Boxes of wheat flakes and crisped rice. Canned soup, beans and tomatoes and a package of pasta shapes. There were potatoes and carrots and a bag of apples.

She was pawing through the box when she heard a shuffling noise from the hallway, and glanced over her shoulder to see Bae, swaddled in a dressing gown too big for him with the hood pulled up, sleeves hiding his hands. He was hovering in the doorway, watching her.

“Hey, you’re up!” she said, with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

He was shifting from foot to foot a little awkwardly, and Belle beckoned to him.

“You can move closer, I don’t bite,” she said cheerfully. “You want some breakfast?”

“Yes please.” He padded into the room, peering into the box curiously and picking up a box of wheat flakes. “Where did you get these?”

“Groceries, courtesy of the Mayor,” said Belle briskly, taking out the milk and putting it in the fridge. “You think maybe we can find something to tempt your dad?”

“Papa doesn’t eat cereal,” said Bae. “He likes to cook breakfast. He says it’s the most important meal of the day.”

“And he’s right,” said Belle. “But not everyone cooks as much as your papa. I guess they’re trying to cater for all tastes, huh?”

“I have cereal at Neal’s place sometimes,” he said.

“Who’s Neal?” asked Belle.

“Neal Nolan. He’s my best friend.”

“Your dad said he gets wool from the Nolans’ farm,” said Belle, remembering. “Is that Neal’s family?”

“Yeah.” Bae put down the box of cereal and picked up a jar of peanut butter, turning it over with a suspicious look on his face. “His dad has sheepdogs. And cats. The cats had babies just before I got sick. Papa said maybe we could get a couple of kittens.”

“Really? How cool.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if we can,” said Bae, sounding morose. “I haven’t seen Neal in over a week.”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Well, do you want to give him a call?” she asked. “You could use my phone, if you like. If he has a cellphone, we could do a video call with him. Maybe see the kittens.”

Bae beamed at her.

“Can I?”

“Have some breakfast first, and then we’ll call,” said Belle. “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want?”

“Uh - can I have eggs? Scrambled?”

“On toast?”

“Yes, please.”

“Any thoughts on what I can make your dad?” she asked. “He doesn’t seem to be eating much.”

“He likes sweet things,” said Bae. “Granny’s cookies and cherry pie, and cakes. Maybe - maybe we could make him cupcakes. Do you know how to make cupcakes?”

Belle pursed her lips.

“I bet we could find a recipe,” she agreed. “Let’s try that after you call your friend, hmm?”

“Great!”

Bell made scrambled eggs on toast for both of them, and drank two cups of tea while she ate it. Afterwards, she set up her phone on the kitchen table, propped up on some books, and sent Bae to find Neal’s number.

“It’s his mom’s number,” explained Bae, as Belle dialled.

A woman answered, short black hair above kind eyes and a bright smile.

“Uh - hello?” she said, looking uncertain.

“Hey,” said Belle. “I’m Belle, the new librarian. I’m staying with the Golds during lockdown, and Bae would like to know if he can speak to Neal.”

She moved aside a little for Bae to squeeze into the shot.

“Oh! Sure!” The woman beamed, and called over her shoulder. “Neal? Baeden’s calling you!”

There was a thunder of feet, and the woman disappeared, replaced by a young boy with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Bae!” he exclaimed. “Were you sick? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” said Bae. “This virus _ sucks_. My dad’s really sick.”

“Ugh, sorry.” Neal wrinkled his nose. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“I think so. Belle’s looking after him.”

“Who’s Belle? Is that Belle?” Neal looked interested as Belle waved. “Did your dad get a girlfriend?”

Belle gathered up the breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink, trying not to laugh. She listened to the children chatting as she ran water for the dishes, and trotted upstairs to check on Gold. He was curled in bed, coughing into the sheets, and she shook her head at the sight of him. The room smelled of sickness, stale sweat and the faint whiff of lemon from the drink she had made to soothe his throat.

“Let me get you some more water,” she said, and Gold pushed himself upright, falling back against the pillows with a gasp.

“I need to get up,” he whispered.

“You do not,” said Belle firmly. “You need to rest. Bae and I have everything under control.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s talking to Neal. I Skyped the Nolans.”

A faint smile.

“That’s good of you. He must be lonely.”

“He’s worried that he won’t be able to get the kittens you promised,” she said, and Gold’s smile widened.

“I’m sure they won’t love him any less for being a few weeks older.” He sat up a little more, raising his arm and sniffing before wrinkling his nose. “I have to take a shower, I’m disgusting.”

“You’ve done nothing but cough and sweat for days, of course you’re disgusting,” she said briskly, and he let out a low, tired chuckle.

“Great bedside manner, Nurse French,” he said.

“I like to think of it as firm but fair.”

“In that case, would you mind getting me some tea while I go and scrub some of the sickness away?”

“You want some breakfast?” she asked. “The groceries arrived. There’s cereal. Peanut butter. Bread, eggs…”

Gold wrinkled his nose.

“Just tea.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try to eat something later.”

“Good. I’ll bring that tea and some more water.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a tired smile. “Thank you, Belle. Thank you for everything. I don’t know how we could ever have managed alone. I can never repay your kindness.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.”

His smile grew a little, but then his face fell, and he grabbed the blankets, tugging them up to his mouth before another coughing fit racked him. Belle shook her head.

“It’s really taking it out of you, huh?” she said, and he slumped back against the pillows, chest heaving.

“It’s exhausting,” he whispered. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I’m gonna drag myself to the shower.”

“I could change your bedsheets, if you like.”

Gold nodded wearily.

“Clean sheets? That sounds wonderful.”

* * *

Belle stripped the bed while he was in the shower, balling up the sheets and putting on fresh. The shower was still running, and she gathered up the dirty bedclothes, trotting downstairs to put on a load of laundry. Bae was still chatting to Neal, and Belle left him to it, pouring out a cup of tea and carrying it upstairs. The shower had shut off, and she set down the cup on Gold’s nightstand, turning just as he opened the bedroom door, a towel around his waist and his hair wet. He took a step back, one hand flailing at the door as he staggered, the other clutching frantically at his towel as it started to slip off, and Belle scuttled back out of his way. He was very thin, his ribs showing in faint lines beneath his skin, his chest smooth and his muscles small and firm. She found that her eyes were following a bead of water as it tracked its way down over his belly, and hurriedly swept her gaze back up to find him staring at her wide-eyed.

“Sorry!” said Belle hastily, feeling her cheeks flush. “Sorry. I just - there’s your tea. I’ll get out of your hair.” 

She stepped to the right just as he did, then to the left, and Gold clutched at the door for dear life, shuffling out of her way until Belle could duck through the door. She hurried downstairs, still blushing, and found that Bae had ended his call to Neal and was putting away the breakfast dishes she had washed.

“Right,” she announced, trying to push the image of a nearly-naked Gold from her mind. “Cupcakes. Let’s find a recipe.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @goldenspinner prompted: 25: “I’ll trade you”

Making the cupcakes was fun. Bae managed to find aprons for them both and helped to measure out the ingredients and beat the eggs as Belle mixed the butter and sugar together. Bae had suggested that they make a carrot cake mix, and Belle thought this was a good idea; grated carrot would at least get a little nutrition into Gold if he ate some. She added chopped walnuts and spices to the mix, and after making up the cake batter they spooned it into paper cases packed into a tray. Bae sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, licking cake batter from the wooden spoon they had used to mix it. Belle had run a finger around the bowl herself, and had to admit that it tasted pretty good.

“What frosting do you want?” she asked, as she slid the tray into the oven.

“I don’t think we have any cream cheese, so buttercream, I guess.”

“Ooh, yum!” Belle began washing the mixing bowl, ready to make the frosting. “You think your dad will like these?”

“Course he will, because _ we _ made them,” said Bae, with certainty. “He likes chocolate cake, too. And oatmeal raisin cookies. Can we make cookies?”

“Let’s see how the cupcakes turn out first,” said Belle, smiling at his enthusiasm. “How was Neal? Did you get to see the kittens?”

“They were sleeping with their mom,” said Bae. “He showed me on the phone. They’re so cute! His mom says I can go get them when the Mayor lets us out. I want the little black one with the white feet, and the stripey one.”

“They sound adorable,” she said, scrubbing the bowl clean. “Kittens like playing and getting into stuff. Your dad’s yarn could be in trouble.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bae looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to keep an eye on them if they’re in the lounge, I guess.”

“Will he mind if they mess things up?”

“He wouldn’t yell at them,” said Bae. “Papa never yells. I don’t want them to wreck his stuff though, even if they’re just playing. Maybe we can make them some toys.”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Do you know how to make pom-poms?” she asked. “If your Papa has some spare wool, we could make some and put them on strings for the kittens to chase.”

Bae looked excited.

“Yeah! I think I remember,” he said. “Papa showed me how. We cut circles out of card and wind wool through, right?”

“Right.” Belle dried the mixing bowl. “We’ll need to ask your dad if we can use some of his wool. Maybe this afternoon, when we’ve finished all the baking you want to do.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“In that case, why don’t you get the powdered sugar, and we’ll make the buttercream?” suggested Belle.

* * *

The cupcakes were soon sitting on a rack, filling the kitchen with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and covered with craggy crowns of buttercream. They had also made two batches of cookies (oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip), and they were cooling on wire racks, ready to go in the cookie jar. Belle finished the load of laundry, and folded the clothes, packing them into the laundry basket to be taken upstairs. Bae helped to fold the sheets, but that seemed to drain him of all energy, and Belle surmised that he had still not fully recovered from the virus. He was unusually subdued, his natural energy having disappeared, and so she sent him to the lounge with a glass of milk and a cupcake and told him to rest. 

She peeked in on Gold when she took the clean laundry upstairs, but he was sleeping soundly, so she left him to it, setting the clean clothes down on his dresser and tiptoeing out. Bae had put the TV on, but when she put her head around the lounge door he was also asleep. Smiling to herself, she put the crochet blanket over him and went to clean up in the kitchen.

By the time the sun was setting, Belle felt as though her feet were ready to fall off. Bae came shuffling through just as she was preparing dinner, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Hey!” she said, smiling as she slid the mac and cheese into the oven. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” He wrinkled his nose. “I fell asleep.”

“You sure did,” she said. “I was going to take your dad a cup of tea and one of these cupcakes. You want to help?”

“Can I take him a cookie too?”

“I’m sure he’d love that.” Belle went to pour out the tea. “You did a great job on mixing that dough. Quite the chef.”

“Papa lets me help him bake.”

“Well, you’re both very talented,” she said. “It’s lucky I’m staying with you, or I’d never get to make anything this delicious.”

Bae beamed at her as he put one of the cakes and a cookie on a small plate.

“Where’s your house, Belle?” he asked.

“Oh, I just have an apartment above the library,” she said. “It’s small, only one bedroom, but I guess It’s enough for now.”

“But if it’s above the library, you don’t have a garden,” he said. “Where do you grow vegetables?”

Belle gave him a rueful smile.

“I’m afraid I never quite got around to growing my own food,” she said. “I have to rely on the store.”

“We can’t grow everything we want,” Bae conceded. “There’s no fruit trees and we don’t have a pumpkin patch. But it’s okay because we forage in the woods and we swap stuff with Neal’s dad and with Anton. He has a farm too.”

“Oh, so you swap for things you don’t have?” Belle added milk to the cups and stirred. “That makes sense.”

“Yeah, like maybe Anton has too many pumpkins, and Papa has too many carrots, so they say “I’ll trade you” and then everyone gets to eat good things.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Belle, smiling at his enthusiasm. “Come on, let’s take your dad his tea.”

Gold was awake when they entered the room, and had propped himself up on the pillows a little. His breathing was still uneven, and he looked hollow-eyed and exhausted, but he smiled warmly at Bae and hugged him tight.

“We made cupcakes!” Bae announced, his voice a little muffled by Gold’s T-shirt. “And cookies! Your favourite.”

“Well, you have been busy.” Gold kissed the top of his head. “Let’s have a taste.”

“We made a carrot cake mix,” said Belle, as Gold took a bite. “We thought it would do you good, get some nutrition inside you.”

“They have nuts in, too!” put in Bae.

Gold made noises of enjoyment, nodding his head as he chewed. There was a blob of frosting on the edge of his lip, and Belle watched as he swiped at it with a long finger and sucked it off. His eyes flicked to hers, and she looked away.

“Delicious,” he said.

“Try the cookies!” said Bae excitedly. “We put the big raisins in.”

Belle bit her lip in amusement as Gold dutifully ate the cookie.

“I can see Granny has competition on her hands,” he said, his voice lower and rougher with coughing. You two could open up a bakery together.”

Bae wriggled with delight, and Belle set the cup of tea down on the nightstand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be better soon.”

He held her gaze steadily, and Belle picked up on the silent message.

“Bae, your dad didn’t try the chocolate chip cookies yet,” she said. “You want to go get him one?”

“Yeah!”

Bae trotted off happily, and Belle turned back to Gold, folding her arms.

“How are you _ really _feeling?” she asked, and he screwed up his face.

“Feels like there’s a ton of weight on my chest,” he said. “It’s exhausting, honestly.”

“Well, you just stay in bed,” she said firmly. “Bae and I have everything under control.”

“So I see.” He gave her a slanted grin. “How is he?”

“He took a nap this afternoon,” she said. “I think he’d overdone things a little. But he’s a lot better this evening. He’s on the mend.”

“Good.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, and reached for his tea. “Sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting to find you in my bedroom.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really,” she said hurriedly, feeling her cheeks start to heat. “Just - bad timing, that’s all.”

“Yes.” He took a drink. “Well. I’ll be sure to be more careful while you’re here. No more unexpected nudity.”

“In that case I promise I’ll do likewise,” she said primly, and he chuckled.

“If you could. In my delicate state I don’t think my heart could take it.” 

Belle giggled, still blushing, and he grinned and took another drink of tea.

“At least I know Bae’s in good hands while I’m lying here like a useless lump,” he said. “He seems to have taken a shine to you. It’s nice to see.”

“He’s a great kid,” she said honestly. “You must be very proud of him.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, setting down his cup. “Best thing I ever did with my life.”

“And he’s worried about you,” she added. “To be honest, so am I. I know we really only just met, but I - I kind of feel like we’re friends. Are we friends?”

His smile grew a little.

“Of course,” he said. “You’ve been a true friend to us this past week. I won’t forget it.”

She smiled, and he looked hesitant, glancing across at her. 

“When all this is over,” he said. “When you go back to your own life and - and you get busy with running the library, I hope you’ll come and visit us. Maybe - maybe for dinner, or something.”

“Now that I know how good you both are at cooking?” she teased. “I’ll be over here so often you’ll get sick of the sight of me.”

Gold’s smile grew soft, dark eyes gleaming in the light of the lamps.

“I don’t think that would be possible,” he said quietly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @goldenspinner prompted: 34: "Remember when we used to leave the house? Fun times"

As lockdown entered its second week, Belle found that she was settling into her new life quite comfortably. Bae had improved each day, and was restless and energetic. She had him helping her with baking and pulling weeds in the garden to burn off some of the excess energy. A call from Mary Margaret Nolan, Neal’s mother and Bae’s teacher, announced that lessons would be resuming over Zoom, and Belle cleared a space at the kitchen table for Bae to participate on his father's laptop.

“I’m hoping this works,” confessed Mary Margaret, having explained her idea for the format of the lessons. “Redesigning the lessons for remote delivery and trying to think of ways to keep them engaged has been driving me nuts.”

“If you need a break, I’d be happy to do a story hour with them,” offered Belle. “Maybe we could collaborate on something; a story hour on a book you want them to read, followed by some sort of art project based on that.”

Mary Margaret beamed.

“That’s a great idea!” she said. “We could continue once lockdown ends, too.”

“I’m trying to recall what life was like before lockdown,” said Belle, with a wry grin. “Remember when we used to leave the house? Fun times.”

“Yeah.” Mary Margaret chuckled. “I guess I’m better off than most. The farm still needs work, the animals still have to be fed. I feel for those going stir-crazy in their apartments.”

“That would have been me, if I hadn’t ended up staying here,” said Belle, and Mary Margaret looked curious.

“How did that happen?” she asked. “I was wondering.”

“Completely by chance,” admitted Belle. “Rum and I kind of had a spat over the last packet of paracetamol at the store, and somehow I ended up moving in."

“Huh." Mary Margaret pursed her lips. "Not your average meet-cute, but these are unusual times.”

Belle gave her a level look.

“He was sick, and I wanted to help.”

“Oh, ignore me,” Mary Margaret assured her. “I’m a hopeless romantic, and Storybrooke needs more happy endings.”

“Hard to be romantic when you literally can’t touch one another.”

“Then you’ll have to be very inventive.”

“Speaking of inventive,” said Belle, feeling herself blush and wanting to change the subject. “Let’s talk more about working together. I was intending to set up some after-school clubs for different age groups at the library. Any input you and the other teachers could give would be great.”

“I’ll email the staff and ask them for their thoughts,” said Mary Margaret. “Sounds like the kind of integrated program we’ve been wanting to introduce in Storybrooke. If we can get the Mayor’s approval we should be able to get more funding.”

“Does the Mayor have kids?” asked Belle, and Mary Margaret gave her a knowing smile.

“She has a ten-year-old son. Something tells me this town will be very supportive of more activities for kids after trying to entertain their own for three weeks.”

* * *

The Zoom lessons started well, with only a few technological teething problems, which meant that Bae spent much of his days learning and chatting with his friends, leaving Belle free to do chores and read. The first story hour was due to take place that Friday, and Belle and Mary Margaret had already discussed ideas for complementary lesson-planning. It made Belle feel as though she was achieving something in her new position, despite not having set foot in the library in almost two weeks.

Gold, alas, was still in bed.

Belle had not tried to hide how much he was worrying her, with his rattling cough and the high fever that came and went. Already thin, he was now almost gaunt, and she and Bae tried their best to tempt him with homemade cookies and cakes, along with more substantial meals from the freezer. She told herself repeatedly that at least he didn’t seem to be getting any worse, and that his quietly stubborn nature would surely help him pull through. 

On Wednesday evening she took him some tea and found him sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

“Hey,” she said.

Her voice made him look up. His eyes and cheeks were hollow, his cheeks and chin covered with almost two weeks of stubble, but there was a determined glint in his eyes. She put her head to the side. 

“You okay?”

“I’m getting up,” he said decidedly, gesturing with a finger. “I’m getting my arse up, and I’m going down the bloody stairs.”

Belle hurried to set down the cup of tea on his nightstand.

“Let me help you.”

“No no, it’s fine, I can do it.” He waved her away. “I _ have _to do it. Bloody sick of being a dead weight around this place.”

“You’re sick!”

“And I won’t get better if I let this fucking thing keep me horizontal,” he said shortly, and sighed, running his hands over his face. “Sorry. I’m not angry with you, just this virus.”

“Anger is good in this instance,” she said, and took a step back from him. “Okay, up you get.”

Gold nodded, reaching to the side for his cane and using it to push himself upright. His legs wobbled, and he leaned hard on the cane, but after a moment he seemed to relax a little, although his smile was more of a grimace.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’m taking a shower, and I’ll see you and Bae downstairs in ten minutes.”

“In that case, I’ll take your tea down with me,” she said. “We can all sit around the table and eat some of the fruit loaf Bae and I made.”

Gold nodded, his knuckles tight around the cane handle.

“Sounds perfect.”

* * *

He made it downstairs, much to Bae’s delight, and sat quietly at the table while Bae drank his suppertime warm milk and told him all about the lessons he had done that day. Belle warmed some soup through on the stove, setting it in front of Gold with bread and butter from the supplies that had been delivered. 

“That’s fantastic, Belle, thank you,” he said, picking up a spoon. “I think perhaps my appetite’s coming back.”

“There’s plenty more, if you need it,” she said. “And more bread.”

“The bread tastes weird, Papa,” said Bae, wrinkling his nose. “It’s the same one they have at the school cafeteria. Paige says it’s made of polystyrene and fluff from the inside of the teachers’ pockets.”

Belle chuckled.

“I have to admit that I’ve thought that myself,” she said. “It certainly doesn’t come close to any of the delicious bread I’ve eaten since I came to this house. But it was free, which counts for a lot.”

“Quite right,” said Gold, dipping a piece of the bread in his soup. “We have to appreciate the kindness of those that gave it, Bae. Whether or not you think it tastes good.”

“Okay.” Bae looked a little despondent. “I was just kidding.”

“I know that.” Gold put down his spoon and pulled Bae close for a hug. “You’re a good lad. And a thoughtful one.”

“Belle and I didn’t make bread, though,” said Bae. “Maybe we should have, and then we could use this for something else.”

“We were concentrating on making your dad some treats, right?” said Belle, stroking his hair. “Making him feel better was very important work.”

“And something you both did excellently,” said Gold, turning back to his soup. “See? I’m already up and eating dinner again.” 

Bae grinned, flopping back into his seat, and Gold blew on his soup to cool it.

“Go on, then,” he said. “Tell me more of what you learned about birds today.”

* * *

Something woke Belle.

She yawned, snuggling in her blankets on the couch, her body warm and comfortable. Something had disturbed her sleep: a soft, distant thumping noise that she couldn’t place. Her eyes fluttered and opened, and the noise came again. Glancing at her watch, Belle groaned to herself and sat up, swinging her legs out of the blankets and getting up to head for the kitchen. She could hear the low sound of Gold humming, and assumed it was he that was making the noise. If he was already up and about at just after six in the morning, perhaps he was feeling better.

Her sock-clad feet made no sound as she padded across the floor, and she entered the kitchen silently, hands curling around the door frame. Gold was standing at the counter in T-shirt and jeans with his cane leaning beside him and a dish towel tucked into his belt, his forearms covered in flour. He was kneading dough, one hand grasping, folding and turning before pushing down with the heels of his hands. Two bowls sat on the table with towels draped over them, with a third standing empty at his side. He hummed as he worked, the rhythmic slap and thump of his hands against the dough in time with the beat, and Belle smiled a little as she watched him.

“Couldn’t face the polystyrene and pocket lint bread again, huh?” she asked, and Gold started, turning to face her with the dough ball in his hands.

“Ah,” he said, looking down. “Well. You both said you liked my bread better, so I thought it was probably time to make some.”

“You didn’t have to get up at six in the morning to make it,” she said, and he shrugged, turning back to his kneading.

“That was always my usual habit, before I came down with the virus,” he said. “I usually set the loaves aside for first rise, then do the rest of my chores. I bet the garden’s just _choked_ with weeds.”

“I hope not, Bae and I have been working on it,” she said, coming into the kitchen properly. “Tea?”

“I’ll make it. You’ve done more than enough this past ten days.”

“Don’t burn yourself out,” she warned, crossing to the sink to fill the kettle. “I can make the tea. The last thing we need is you falling over again. Take it slow.”

Gold gave her a slanting grin, and bowed his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He gave the dough a final press, then worked it into a ball with swift passes of his hands and dropped it in the empty bowl. Going to the sink to wash his hands, he flourished the dish towel to dry them off, and draped it over the bowl before wiping down the work surface.

“Wholemeal, mixed seed, oat and honey, and black olive,” he explained, as Belle looked questioningly at the bowls. “We’ll eat some and freeze the rest. Just in case.”

“You’re very well prepared.”

“I try to be.”

He grasped his cane, almost falling into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh, and Belle shook her head.

“You’re still not well,” she said, and he opened his eyes, a tired smile back on his face.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re stubborn, is what you are,” she said severely.

“One of my few redeeming qualities.”

“Stubborn _ and _self-effacing,” she remarked. “It’s almost adorable.”

Gold’s smile grew.

“‘Almost’?”

Belle put her hands on her hips, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. For an awkward moment she found herself recalling what he looked like with a small towel around his waist, and told herself to concentrate.

“I very much doubt the virus cares how adorable it is,” she said loftily. “If it knocks you on your ass again and you end up spending another week in bed, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He was grinning now.

“A good thing I have such a competent housemate,” he said. “I’ll miss you when this is over, Belle. Bae and I will miss you, I mean. Both of us.”

She was definitely blushing now, and that image would _ not _leave her mind, but she couldn’t help grinning back.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll miss you guys too.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @joylee56 prompted: 22: "I just don't know what to do"

Gold seemed to improve markedly over the next few days, although he still coughed at times and seemed to tire in the evenings. Belle soon got used to meeting him each morning in the kitchen, where he would have a pot of tea brewing as he kneaded dough or mixed pancake batter. He had offered to trade places with her and give her his bed, but she refused; the couch was very comfortable, and she didn’t feel right making him sleep there when he was used to his own bed.

Now that he was feeling better, Gold never seemed to be still for long. He was always cooking or cleaning, moving quickly around the small house to keep it clean and neat and free of clutter. Belle helped, folding laundry and offering to wash dishes after dinner while he mopped the floor.

“You guys make a good team,” said Bae, from the table, eating a banana. Gold eyed him.

“Having Belle here doesn’t mean you get out of chores, you know,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Belle hastily. “I’d rather keep busy.”

“I just meant having Belle here is a good thing,” said Bae. “I couldn’t have looked after you when you were sick. Not like she could. I can’t work the stove, so I couldn’t bake you carrot cake like she can.”

“You helped with that,” Belle reminded him. “I couldn’t have done it without you. We’re like a sugar-loaded tag-team.”

Bae giggled, and Gold sent Belle a grin, his eyes twinkling.

“I just meant I can’t take care of you on my own, Papa,” Bae went on. “I just don’t know what to do. Don’t get sick again until I’m maybe - twelve - or something.”

Gold chuckled, working the mop in between the chair legs.

“I’ll try not to.”

“Or tell Belle she can stay with us,” added Bae, and Gold’s eyes flicked across at Belle.

“I’m sure Belle’s looking forward to getting back to her own place and having a bit of peace,” he remarked.

“But I want her to meet the kittens!” said Bae. “How will they get to know her if she doesn’t come over?”

“Oh, of course I’ll come over!” Belle assured him. “Have you chosen names for the kittens yet?”

Bae wrinkled his nose.

“No. I think I want to hold them first, see what they feel like.”

“That makes sense.”

“We can make arrangements to pick them up from Mrs Nolan just as soon as lockdown ends,” said Gold, shoving the mop back into its bucket of water and swirling it around. “Speaking of, you’d better make sure you’re ready for class tomorrow. No mad panic at the last minute because you can’t find your books, okay?”

“We’re starting a project on dinosaurs!” announced Bae, and slipped from the table, putting his banana skin in the trash and hurrying upstairs with thundering feet.

* * *

The following morning Belle woke a little later than usual, and found Bae at the kitchen table furiously scribbling in advance of his first class of the day. She gave him some help where she could, although he turned out to be far better at identifying dinosaur species than she was. She listened attentively as he told her of the asteroid that had fallen, and the chaos that had followed. The reptile species that had disappeared, allowing mammals to thrive.

As Bae was finishing up, Belle went to put on the kettle for some tea. She wasn’t especially hungry, so she wandered out to the rear garden, where she found Gold on his knees in the vegetable patch, pulling out weeds with quick, practised tugs. He glanced up as she approached, shaking his hair back.

“Decided to work in the garden today, huh?” she observed, and he shrugged, glancing around. 

“If we want fresh vegetables this summer, I really need to keep this place tidy,” he said. “You and Bae were doing a good job with it, though, Far less to do than I expected.”

“He had to show me which plants were weeds,” confessed Belle. “I’d probably have pulled up all the onions, left to myself.”

Gold grinned.

“Yeah, it can take a little getting used to, but you learn to recognise what should be there and what should go,” he said, sitting back on his heels and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Where’s Bae? I thought I heard the two of you talking.”

“We were doing the homework he should have done last night,” said Belle, in a dry tone, and Gold shook his head with a grin.

“If he thinks he can pull the wool over Mary Margaret’s eyes, he’s mistaken,” he said. “She’ll know if he’s half-arsed the thing.”

“I gave him a hand,” she said. “I think he’ll pass muster, he seems to know his stuff. He’s really looking forward to the dinosaur project.”

“Good.” He tugged at some more weeds, plucking them out and tossing them aside. “I didn’t want to disturb you this morning. You looked to be very comfortable on the couch when I put my head around the door. I can make us some tea as soon as I’m done here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” she said. “Can’t believe I slept in. If seven a.m. is sleeping in. I guess it is now. You must have been up with the dawn.”

“I’ve always been an early riser,” he said. “I like the early mornings. It’s quiet. Contemplative. At least until Bae gets up.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I kind of like it in winter, when it’s still dark and maybe it’s raining, and you sit with a cup of tea waiting for the sun to rise, and it feels like you’re the only one who’s awake.”

“Little chance of that with an eight-year-old, but I know what you mean.”

“Oh, wait until he’s a teenager,” she said, waving a hand. “You won’t be able to get him out of bed then.”

Gold chuckled.

“I suspect you’re right about that,” he said. “Do you run your library classes for teenagers, too?”

“All ages,” she said. “Book clubs, study sessions, research… I’m looking forward to getting started when I can open the place up again.”

“Maybe I’ll get a library card,” he said. “Join one of your book clubs.”

“You’d be very welcome,” she said, and he smiled, turning back to the weeds. 

“I’d better get on with this, give Bae some breakfast before school starts,” he said. “I want to start getting those beans in today.”

Belle got on her knees beside him, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“It’ll go quicker with two,” she suggested, and he gave her a wide, warm grin.

* * *

Gold cooked that evening, a hearty stew of spicy sausage with lentils, tomatoes and onions, served up with mounds of fluffy mashed potato and steamed kale slick with butter. It was hot and savoury, but Belle found to her dismay that she had lost her appetite. Her head was throbbing a little, a dull, insistent pounding that made her feel a little nauseous, and she pushed a piece of sausage around her plate, watching the path it cut through the thick, russet-coloured liquid.

“Are you alright?”

Gold’s voice made her look up, meeting brown eyes filled with concern. She smiled.

“Not feeling all that great,” she admitted. “Maybe all those early starts are catching up with me.”

He eyed her for a moment, and nodded.

“Go and rest,” he said. “Bae and I will clean up, and I’ll bring you some tea later. Go on, lie down and take a nap.”

“Actually that sounds like a good idea.” Belle put down her fork, pushing back from the table. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“I hope you’re not sick,” said Bae worriedly, and she smiled, patting his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just tired. I’ll take a nap and be right as rain.”

She pushed up from the table, heading to the door on legs that wobbled a little and trying to shove away the fearful thoughts that were insisting that she was next, that she was sick. She squared her jaw, grasping the handle of the lounge door and pushing it open and heading for her bed on the couch. Rum and Bae had recovered. They were fine. She would be, too.

* * *

Something was clicking.

Belle was warm and comfortable, eyes closed and the now-familiar scents of wool and orange oil tickling her nose. The clicking noise was still there, a pattering sound which she had first mistaken for raindrops. She opened her eyes to find the room gently bathed in the golden glow of the corner lamps, the curtains drawn against the night, and Gold in the squashy armchair across from her, knitting.

She watched, fascinated, as his nimble fingers wielded the needles, catching and winding wool to make the stitches, a long length of deep blue forming between his legs. He was concentrating on his task, and she let her eyes roam a little, following the line of his nose and sweeping along his cheekbones to where his hair was turning silver above his slightly pointed ears. Light made shadows in the collar of his shirt, and where his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, his tanned forearms slender and sinewy.

“How are you feeling?”

His voice, though quiet, still made her start, and she flicked her eyes up to meet his.

“Uh…” How _ was _she feeling? “Okay, I guess.”

Gold began counting his stitches with quick flicks of a thumbnail.

“Coughing?” he asked. “Any tightness in your chest?”

“No.” Belle pushed upright, swinging her legs around and letting the blanket drop as she ran her hands over her face. “I feel okay.”

“Headaches?”

“I had one earlier,” she admitted. “It seems to have gone. What time is it?”

“Almost nine-thirty,” he said. “I was going to make some tea.”

“Yes please.” She yawned. “Can’t believe I slept all that time.”

“Hmm.” He put down his knitting and sat forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees and giving her a firm look. “I want you to listen to me, okay? It’s highly possible that you’re about to become as sick as Bae and I have been. So I want you to take my bed tonight.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that…”

“Yes, there is,” he insisted. “You were kind enough to come here and take care of us, and I made you sick. I feel - I feel just awful about it, Belle, really.”

“I feel okay now!”

“But you might not tomorrow,” he said quietly, and his eyebrows raised upward, a desperate, pleading expression. “It’s the least I can do. Please, Belle. I put clean sheets on. It’s all ready for you.”

She sighed, giving him a weary, if fond look.

“You sure you’re ready to sleep on the couch?” she said, and he shrugged, a faint grin on his face. 

“It’s not like it’d be the first time.”

Shaking her head in pretended exasperation, Belle pushed to her feet. She still felt a little unsteady, but perhaps more sleep was all she needed. There was no sign of any coughing, and she didn’t have a fever. 

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll have some tea, and I’ll sleep in your bed. But _ only _to make you feel better, okay? And if I wake up tomorrow and I’m not sick, you get your bed back.”

Gold’s grin widened.

“Deal.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @mrs-stiltskin and @kelyon prompted: "Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?"
> 
> Okay, I promise to stop teasing you guys really really soon!

Despite how comfy she had found the couch, Belle had to admit that sleeping in a proper bed was better. She stretched her legs out as she woke, enjoying the space around her in the warm sheets, and squinted at her watch. _ Eight-oh-four. Wow. Guess I needed the sleep. _

She lay on her back for a moment, trying to assess how she was feeling. Still no cough, and no tightness in her chest, which was good. She felt a little drained, though, and her limbs ached, so she clearly wasn’t better. Perhaps she simply had a mild case. Lots of people did, after all.

Voices were floating up the stairs: Gold warning Bae to be careful, and not to drop anything. Belle glanced to the side as she heard Bae’s thumping footsteps on the stairs, followed by a knock on the bedroom door.

“Come on in,” she called, and he pushed it open, sidling around the edge of the door with a plate held carefully in his hands.

“I brought you French toast,” he announced. “It has maple syrup on it. We didn’t have fresh berries, but Papa and I went blueberry picking last summer and put them in jars in some sugar syrup, and they’re just as good. And we sliced up a banana from the grocery box.”

Belle sat up with a smile, pushing herself up on the pillows. Her arms wobbled a little, but she managed to get herself into a comfortable position in which to eat. Bae set the plate on the nightstand and stepped back to watch her reaction. Plump, glistening blueberries were scattered across a thick slice of French toast with slices of banana, the whole thing drizzled with amber trails of maple syrup. The toast was golden-coloured, its edges the dark brown of caramel, and she licked her lips.

“It looks delicious,” she said, deciding not to mention that her sense of smell seemed to have abandoned her, and Bae nodded.

“When Papa said you were sick too, I thought maybe you’d want something sweet, like I did,” he explained. “I can’t get apple pie from Granny’s, but maybe this will help.”

“That’s good of you, sweetie,” she said. “I’m okay, really. Just a little tired and achy. I’m sure I’ll feel much better tomorrow. Especially with you taking such good care of me.”

“Papa made the French toast,” said Bae at once. “I just brought it up.”

“Well, it looks yummy.”

She picked up the plate, setting it on her lap, and Bae flopped into the chair, watching as she took a bite. Sweetness burst across her tongue, but she was dismayed that she couldn’t seem to taste much beyond that. _ I suppose of all the symptoms I could get, loss of taste isn’t too bad in comparison_, she thought _ . _Bae was watching her anxiously, and she made noises of enjoyment.

“It’s really good,” she assured him, and he beamed.

“Papa said he’d bring you some tea,” he said. “He says you should stay in bed and let us look after you.”

“And I’m not going to turn him down,” she said. “I’ll do as he suggests. At least for today.”

She cut another piece and popped it in her mouth, and Bae swung his feet restlessly, kicking the chair legs.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?” she said.

“I’m all set,” he assured her. “Today we find out which dinosaur species we get to read about. I hope I get ankylosaurus. Will you help me do research?”

“Of course I will,” she said. “Do you have any books on dinosaurs?”

“Only one,” he said gloomily. “I wish the library was open now.”

“So do I.” Belle wiped syrup from her plate with a piece of bread. “There’s a ton of information online, though. I’ll help you look.”

“Okay.” 

Bae looked more cheerful, and Belle ate another mouthful of toast.

“Do you miss being at school?” she asked. “Playing with your friends?”

“Sometimes.”

“Seeing them on Zoom isn’t the same as playing outside, I guess,” she said, and he shrugged.

“No one’s mean on Zoom, though.”

Belle frowned, chewing a mouthful of French toast.

“Has someone been mean to you?”

Bae shuffled his feet, shrugging again and looking uncomfortable.

“Some of the kids make fun of me because I don’t have a mom,” he said. “They say you can’t have a proper family without a mom and a dad.”

“Well, they’re wrong to say that,” said Belle firmly. “Families come in lots of different shapes and sizes, and there’s nothing to say that you need to have a mom and a dad to be a proper family.”

“That’s what Papa says,” said Bae, looking happier. “They’re just mean. They make fun of Paige, too. She doesn’t have a mom. But she has two dads, so I guess that makes up for it.”

Belle smiled, digging into her toast with a fork.

“I don’t have a mom, either,” she said, and Bae looked interested.

“Did yours leave, like mine did?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No, she died.”

“Oh.” He looked sad. “Mine just left. She said she’d come back, but she didn’t.”

Belle wanted to hug him.

“Do you remember your mom?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Kind of. She had dark hair like you.”

“When did you last see her?”

Bae shrugged, pulling a face.

“She called,” he said. “The Christmas we came to Storybrooke. Papa had put lights up all around the porch, and we just finished decorating the tree, and he was smiling. Then the phone rang and he answered it and he stopped smiling.”

“Did you speak to her?” asked Belle, and he nodded.

“She sounded kind of weird, but she said she’d come visit,” he said. “She said she’d come on Christmas Day and she’d bring me presents, but she never did.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said gently. “That sounds hard. Maybe she’s sorry for what she did. Maybe she’ll come back one day.”

“I don’t want her to,” he muttered, his feet kicking faster. “She’s a liar.”

Belle tried to think of something to say that would help, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs made them both glance around. Gold put his head around the door, a steaming cup of tea in one hand, and smiled.

“Thought I’d bring you some tea,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not too bad,” she said. “If I’ve got the virus, it at least seems to be a mild case.”

“Good.” He came into the room, setting the cup down on the nightstand. “Bae, class starts soon, could you go and brush your teeth, please?”

“Okay.” 

Bae gave Belle a wan smile and shuffled out of the room. Gold frowned after him for a moment, but turned back to Belle.

“The hospital is sending out nurses to take tests to try to pin this thing down,” he said. “I put a call in this morning to report all three of us feeling sick. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “It makes sense, if we’re to beat this virus.”

“Positive results might result in longer periods of isolation, that’s all,” he said. “I’m hoping not too long; a lot of people in this town will suffer if they can’t work. But at least it means we won’t infect anyone else.”

“Any word on how the rest of the town’s doing?” she asked, and he eased himself into the chair that Bae had vacated, resting the cane between his legs.

“The Mayor is giving a briefing at six today,” he said. “Should be an update then.”

“Okay.” She put her head to the side. “How are _ you _ doing?”

“Still not back to running on all four cylinders, if I’m honest,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I thought I’d finish Granny’s books today, as soon as Bae’s done with school. Can’t get them back to her, but at least it’ll be done for when I can.”

“Don’t exhaust yourself,” she warned. “You look tired. You’re getting over a serious illness, you need to make sure you rest.”

“I will.” He smiled briefly. “The couch isn’t too bad, is it?”

“Not as comfortable as this,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “You could always take a nap, you know. I don’t mind.”

Gold’s tiny smile widened a little, his eyes twinkling.

“What _ would _ the neighbours say?”

“Well, I won’t tell them if you won’t,” she said bluntly. “Come on, it’s your bed.”

“Yes, and you’re in it.” 

“I don’t mind moving,” she said. “Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?”

The smile became a grin.

“If I lie down next to you, I won’t get up again.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

Gold shook his head, looking amused, and pushed to his feet.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her empty plate. “There’s too much to do.”

“Okay, but at least promise me you’ll get some rest later,” she called, as he left the room.

“I promise! Now take your own advice!”

His voice drifted in through the door, and Belle grinned, wriggling down in the bed a little to drink her tea. Gold needed someone to look after him, if he wouldn’t do it himself. The role might as well fall to her, for as long as she was staying with him. Though she suspected he’d want his bed back at some point.

* * *

She stayed in bed for most of the day, only getting up when it was time for dinner. Nurses from the hospital had attended, covered from head to toe in protective clothing as they used swabs to take samples from all three in the house. The results were confirmed quickly: three positive tests. Gold answered their questions on the dates when symptoms had first appeared, and on that basis he and Bae were told to observe quarantine for a further seven days, and Belle for fourteen. Gold nodded agreement, looking a little anguished, if not surprised.

Mayor Mills appeared on TV just as they finished dinner, looking poised and sombre in her two-piece suit. She read out the latest figures: two hundred and eighteen cases, twenty-seven residents in a serious condition in hospital, thirteen deaths. After a moment of remembrance for each of the victims, she ran through the latest medical evidence, and what the anticipated numbers would be as the effects of lockdown were assessed.

“Storybrooke has always been a strong community, and this time of crisis is no exception,” she said. “I know the residents of this town will do everything in their power to help keep their neighbours safe and well. If you have been told to extend the quarantine due to positive tests, please do so. I realise that people are concerned about their jobs, and the effect that lockdown is having on their ability to feed their families, but we must all do our part to defeat this virus.”

She looked around, dark eyes flashing, expression one of firm resolve. 

“As Mayor, I promise you that I will do all I can to ensure no one goes hungry, and that jobs and businesses recover from this,” she said. “The deliveries of groceries will continue until lockdown ends. I’m meeting virtually with local business owners and medical experts to discuss what needs to be put in place to allow the town to open up safely, and I hope to have some news on that next week.”

The briefing ended, and Gold turned off the TV, leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“What does it mean?” asked Bae.

“It means you’re probably having Zoom classes for at least another three weeks,” said Gold.

“I don’t mind that too much,” said Bae. “Can I watch TV now?”

Gold passed him the remote, getting up and heading for the kitchen to clean up, and Belle went back upstairs to lie down for ten minutes. She was still aching a little, as though she had been doing hard physical work that day, but she hadn’t developed a fever, and she was hoping that meant that her symptoms were as bad as things would get. 

* * *

She woke with a start to find that it was almost eleven at night. 

Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, yawning widely as she pulled her slippers back on to head to the bathroom. When she had finished washing her hands and had splashed a little water on her face to revive herself, she headed downstairs. Lights were still on in the lower floor of the house, and she was thirsty. Perhaps Gold would join her in a cup of something before turning in.

She found him in the kitchen, seated at the kitchen table with an empty cup beside him. He was tapping away at the laptop, occasionally checking the pad of paper to his right. His brows were lowered, a faint look of desperation on his face.

“Hey,” she said, and he started, looking around.

“Belle.” He smiled, but there was only a weary resignation in it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she said. “I feel much better. You?”

“Fine, fine,” he said vaguely, running a hand through his hair.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Gold sighed, slumping back in the chair a little.

“Just going through the budget,” he said quietly. “God, I hope the Mayor finds a way to open things up in this town. If she doesn’t, things are gonna be extremely tight around here.”

Belle moved a little closer.

“When you say ‘tight’...”

Gold looked up at her, his expression steady and grim.

“I mean there won’t be a cent to spare,” he said. “It’s gonna eat up everything I managed to put aside against emergencies, and even then I’m gonna have to be very, very creative.”

He shook his head, turning back to the laptop, and Belle wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, to send him some comfort. Her fingers seemed to hesitate, hanging in the air as she watched the light shine on his hair, and eventually she let her hand drop to her side again.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess with the town closed up for weeks, you won’t get many requests for bookkeeping.”

“Not for another few months, I reckon,” he said grimly, looking around. “Those businesses that do manage to open up again, they won’t be in a position to pay me. Things are going to be - stretched.”

“Does this call for more foraging in the woods?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Once we’re allowed out of the house, yes. Can’t pass up free food.”

“At least you know what you’re looking for,” she said. “Maybe you could teach me. I’ll help you pick berries and mushrooms and maybe I won’t poison us all.”

Gold grinned, but there was a weariness to his face, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“You may think it’s pleasant, Bae and I growing our own food and foraging in the woods, ” he said. “And it is, don’t get me wrong. I love him and we’re happy in our little house in this little town. But it’s - it’s hard, Belle. Being poor, especially when you’re a single parent, is _ hard. _ It’s constant. You can’t take a day off and just - just _ be_. You’re always planning, always thinking. Budgeting down to the last penny, hoarding and making do and cutting coupons or bartering with the neighbours. Hoping and praying that nothing breaks, that you won’t get sick, that you won’t lose work. It’s - it’s a never-ending project that you can’t hand off to anyone else.”

The smile fell from her face at the look in his eyes, an expression that was almost pleading.

“I didn’t mean to make light of it—” she began, and Gold shook his head.

“No, please, that wasn’t a criticism,” he said. “I - well, to be honest, I just wanted to rant for a moment. I can’t do it in front of Bae, you see. I don’t want him to worry.” 

“I know you do whatever it takes to make sure Bae doesn’t want for anything,” she said quietly. “You’re a good father. A good man.”

Gold smiled, looking grateful, and eyed the computer screen again.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “It - it probably isn’t the best time to have an extra mouth to feed, is it?”

Gold looked around.

“I’m not blaming you, please don’t think that,” he said quickly. “I’m so grateful you stayed with us, Belle, I truly am. It’s just - well…” He gestured helplessly at the spreadsheet on the screen in front of him.

“I can contribute,” she said.

“That’s not necessary…”

“No, please!” she insisted. “You’ve been providing for me since I moved in, and - and I haven’t had to buy any of my own food since I did, and out of the two of us I’m the one still getting paid, so it makes sense I give a little back.”

“You’ve already given us so much,” he said, and she gave him a level look.

“Yeah, but none of that keeps the lights on, does it?” she said. “If you won’t take money, sell me something.”

Gold blinked at her.

“What?”

“Sell me something,” she repeated, and hurried to the larder. “Like… I don’t know, some of that really delicious cherry jam you made. I’d love to eat that in the mornings when I finally head back to my own apartment. How much?”

“Belle…”

“Or - or maybe you could make me something,” she said. “You knit, right? I could use a new sweater.”

Gold fixed her with a flat stare.

“Belle,” he said. “I’m not taking your money. You’ve more than earned a place here. All you’ve done for us - it wouldn’t be right.”

“But—”

“I mean it,” he said firmly. “Please, don’t distress yourself. I’ll find a way. I always do.”

She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.

“God, you’re stubborn.”

Gold sent her a brief, slanting grin.

“As I recall, you said it was adorable.”

“_Almost _ adorable,” she corrected, and his grin widened.

“I stand corrected.”

Belle sighed, leaning back against the kitchen table, feeling an odd mix of amusement and frustration.

“Don’t suppose there was any wine in that grocery box, was there?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“I’m afraid orange juice was as exciting as it got,” he said, and hesitated. “Actually - I do have a bottle somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Was gonna save it for - well, who knows? Christmas, maybe?”

“Oh, in that case we don’t need to open it,” she said hastily, and he shook his head.

“It’s not as though it’s an expensive bottle,” he said. “Just that I don’t drink a lot, so there seemed little point in opening it just for me. But - well, maybe it would be nice. If you and I had a drink together.”

He looked hesitant, uncertain, and Belle smiled warmly.

“I would like that.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @crystalwhitepeacock prompted: #45 "I won't leave you. I promise." Also, this quote from Skin Deep, if I may: "And since then, you've loved no one, and no one has loved you."
> 
> :)))

Belle wrapped the robe she was wearing around herself a little tighter, looping the belt tight as Gold closed down the laptop and shoved the pad containing his budget notes into one of the kitchen drawers. She took two wine glasses from the cupboard as he rummaged around on one of the higher shelves in the larder, finally taking down a bottle of red wine. He held it up, looking uncertain. A stylised black cat with a curling tail was on the label, looking out with tilted green eyes.

“I’ve no idea what it’s like,” he said. “Not exactly a connoisseur. I’m guessing it’ll be red and fairly alcoholic. Aftertaste of wine.”

Belle giggled.

“Can’t ask much more than that,” she said. “Besides, it has a black cat on it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Gold’s eyebrow twitched, and she felt her mouth drop open as she realised what she’d said.

“Uh - I - I meant with the taste,” she said lamely, and his eyes gleamed as he tried to hide a smile.

“Well, let’s hope so.” He stepped past her, reaching into one of the drawers for a corkscrew. “Come on, let’s take this through to the lounge.”

She waited for him to uncork the bottle, following him through to the lounge and setting the glasses on the coffee table before turning on the lamps. Gold eased himself onto the couch, picking up the glasses one by one and pouring wine into them.

“Cheers,” he said, raising his glass, and she smiled, sitting down next to him and picking up her own.

“Cheers.”

They clinked glasses, and Belle took a sip. The wine was pleasant enough as far as she could tell, its warmth spreading down her throat as she swallowed.

“Considering my sense of taste has all but disappeared, it seems pretty good,” she said, and Gold nodded.

“Honestly, it’s so long since I had a drink, anything would taste good,” he said. “But I’ve definitely had worse.”

He took another sip, and settled back against the cushions with a sigh as he relaxed a little, stretching his legs out.

“How long is it since you just kicked back with a glass of wine?” she asked.

“Probably New Year’s Eve,” he admitted. “Didn’t stay up until midnight, or anything. Bae and I had been to Granny’s New Year’s party, but I had a glass of wine when he went to bed, and I drank the last of the whisky I had. Sat here in silence and thought about the year that had gone and the one that was to come.”

“I have to say that my New Year’s Eve was similar,” she remarked. “Only with far more alcohol and _ many _more regrets.”

Gold chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

“I was thinking it would be a good year,” he said. “A better year. Didn’t see any of this coming, of course.”

“None of us did,” she said. “Although I have to say this whole experience has made me reevaluate things. Think about what’s important in life.”

“Has it made you regret coming to Storybrooke?” he asked. “You would have had more freedom to move around if you’d stayed in the city, I imagine.”

“Oh, I could never regret coming here,” she said at once. “It’s a wonderful town; admittedly I haven’t seen all that much of it yet, but it certainly _ seems _ wonderful. And coming here just before a crisis hits, being a relative stranger in this place - well, it’s made me realise how much strength and compassion there is out there. And how important it is to have a community. To _ belong_.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “This town certainly pulls together in a crisis. And you do belong, Belle. You’re one of us now.”

She smiled at him, and there was a comfortable silence as they drank their wine. It had made her cheeks flush a little, and by the time she finished the glass she was feeling a gentle buzz from the alcohol. Gold took her empty glass, setting it on the table beside his own and pouring them another. 

“Did Bae say anything to you earlier?” he asked. “He seems a little down today.”

“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip. “Yeah. He was talking about his mom.”

“Ah.” Gold nodded. “Yes. He mentions her less than he once did, but I’m sure he still misses her.” 

“He told me about the last time they spoke,” she said, picking up her glass. “He said she promised to visit and bring presents, but she never showed up.”

Gold gave her a thin, bitter smile.

“No,” he said. “He must have asked me when she was coming fifty times over that Christmas period. I didn’t have an answer.”

“And you haven’t heard from her since?” asked Belle.

“A couple of postcards, gushing about how wonderful it was to travel,” he said dryly. “Full of empty promises about how she would come and see him and tell him all about what she’d been doing. The last one of those was over two years ago. I don’t even know if she’s still alive, and frankly I don’t care.”

He hung his head a little, his mouth flattening as he turned the glass between his fingers.

“That sounds bad, doesn’t it?” he said quietly. “I don’t - I don’t wish her harm, I just - she hurt Bae a lot by breaking her promises all the time. She always said she loved him, and that she’d keep in touch, and it just - never seemed to happen. I’d get him ready for a weekend with her, and she’d be late, or she just wouldn’t show at all.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.” Belle wrinkled her nose. “Poor little Bae. That must have been so hard on him.”

“Sometimes I think it might have been better if she’d said straight out that she didn’t want any access,” he said. “Just left him with me when he was born and gone and lived her own life. At least then he wouldn’t have missed her. Still. Hindsight, and all that.”

“Maybe she wanted to try to do the right thing,” ventured Belle, and he shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “She made enough of a point of wanting access in the divorce, but perhaps that was just because she wanted to create some drama, I don’t know.”

“So she has your address?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” he said dryly. “I made sure she always knew how to contact him. As much as I could. Last time she wrote to him, she said she was taking a boat out to the Caribbean. God alone knows where she ended up.” 

He ran a hand through his hair, huffing air through his lips.

“God, I’m sorry to rant about my ex. I’ve never really had the chance to do it before. Wouldn’t be fair to do it in front of Bae.”

“I think he’s forming his own opinion of her, anyway,” said Belle, and he nodded.

“Perhaps he is. Not much I can do about it either way, it’s up to her to make their relationship work. If she’s interested.”

“You think she’ll ever come back?” she asked, and he pulled a face.

“In the absence of needing a kidney or something?” he said, making her grin. “If I had to put money on it I’d say it’s unlikely.”

There was silence for a moment. Gold took a swallow of wine, shaking his head as though freeing himself from the ghosts of his past.

“What about you?” he asked. “Any depressing relationship failures you want to tell me about?”

Belle pulled a face.

“Mostly a long list of failed first dates,” she said. “A couple of relationships, but nothing that got too serious. Sometimes I think I’m cursed. Or too picky, one of the two.”

“You should be picky,” he said. “No sense in settling for less than you deserve. You deserve the best, Belle. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.”

Gold inclined his head.

“I am happy,” he said. “Most of the time. You know, when there isn’t a deadly pandemic and the threat of financial ruin hanging over the town.”

He sent her a grin, to lighten the statement, and Belle smiled, taking another drink.

“Have you dated much since you got to Storybrooke?” she asked, and he snorted.

“No. Haven’t had time to think about it. Despite Granny doing her best to set me up with every single woman that visits the diner.”

“Sounds like the potential for a bunch of dates as awful as mine was,” she said. “My friend Ariel kept arranging blind dates for me back when I was living in Boston. Unfortunately Ariel’s idea of a hot date and mine just - well, they don’t really match up.”

“I daresay she and Granny would get along well,” he remarked, and Belle giggled.

“Well meaning and wonderful but _ really _ missing the mark,” she said.

“God bless ‘em.”

He raised his glass, and she clinked her own against his, still chuckling.

“It hasn’t put you off relationships entirely, then?” she said. “Getting divorced?”

Gold eyed her for a moment, and shrugged.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “I haven’t become bitter and cynical, no matter how badly things ended with Milah. No matter how badly they began.”

Belle turned towards him, drawing her knees up onto the couch.

“You were married,” she said. “You must have cared about each other once.”

“We married because of Bae,” he said wearily. “I wanted to do the right thing, give us some stability. But yes, I suppose we did care. She told me she loved me, anyway. In the beginning.”

“Perhaps she did.”

He gave her a tiny, twisted smile.

“Perhaps,” he said. “For a time.”

“What happened?” asked Belle softly, and he sighed.

“We wanted different things out of life,” he said simply. “And the things she wanted, I couldn’t give her. Things weren’t great to begin with, but then I did this.” He tapped his bad leg. 

“How did you do it?” she asked curiously, and he pulled a face.

“One of my jobs in New York was a courier,” he said. “Motorcycle courier. Had an accident. Caught a wheel on a patch of fuel and took a trip under a truck. Lucky to come out of it with just a busted ankle.” 

Belle winced.

“God, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is,” he said, and took another swallow of wine. “Made things impossible between us, though. I hadn’t been much of a catch beforehand, but with a limp and a cane…” He gave her a self-deprecating grin, shrugging.

“You broke up, huh?” said Belle, and he nodded.

”She grew - resentful,” he said. “Restless. It was only a matter of time, really, the accident just made it happen sooner. She wanted money, good times, new places and new people every month. She never wanted the life I could give her. Such as it was.”

“You’re a very generous person,” she told him, and he smiled.

“With what?” he said. “I have nothing to offer. As she told me repeatedly.”

“Don’t say that,” she said firmly, and he shrugged.

“It’s true,” he said. “Milah wasn’t wrong about the facts, however cruel she might have been in the delivery. I have no money. No prospects. Nothing but the skills I’ve taught myself.”

“And a kind and generous nature, and a sense of humour, and a selfless heart…”

Gold chuckled, eyes glinting in amusement.

“You make me sound like a Jane Austen heroine.”

“Take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, I will,” he remarked. “I suppose there’s a lot to be said for trying to be kind in the face of adversity. However unheroic and unmasculine it might be considered by some.”

“As a librarian, I’m qualified to tell you that here are many different types of hero,” she said. “Besides, who cares about money and - and wild parties and _ things_? None of that means anything. Not compared to family and belonging and making a life together. Milah was wrong to think it did.”

“Well, like I said.” His tone was wry. “We wanted different things.”

There was silence for a moment, and Belle took a drink, watching as the light caught on Gold’s hair, picking out gold and silver threads in amongst the brown. He glanced across at her, licking a droplet of wine from his lip, and she thought how handsome he was in the warm light, with his high cheekbones and his soft eyes, long fingers tapping against the wine glass. 

Another drink, the heat of the wine in her mouth, on her tongue. Gold took a sip of his own, lean throat bobbing as he swallowed. There were tiny flecks of new stubble on his jaw, and she licked her lips, wondering how rough it would feel, enjoying the sudden tug of desire deep in her belly. She had been analysing what she felt for him for several days, the growing fondness for his gentle ways and his kind nature, the attraction that pooled and swelled and made her heart thump. She wondered how it would feel to have him touch her. How he would taste if she kissed him.

Belle put down her glass, taking a deep breath, her skin tingling.

“So you said Milah left when Bae was four,” she said, and he nodded, glancing across at her as he took a drink.

“That’s right,” he said, setting down his glass.

“And since then, you’ve loved no one,” she said softly. “And no one has loved you.”

Gold stared at her for a moment, as though he was unsure what she had said, then slowly leaned forward, the couch squeaking a little as he moved. He was very close, and she could feel her breath quicken as his eyes bored into hers.

“Why did you stay with me?” he whispered, and she swallowed, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips.

“I - I wanted to help,” she said. “I thought - I thought you needed me.”

He lifted a hand, his movements hesitant, seeming to catch himself momentarily before gently cupping her cheek, his fingers sliding across her skin. Belle sucked in a breath at his touch, her heart thumping, and as uncertainty flickered across his face she put a hand over his, holding him there. He leaned in a little closer, until she could feel his cool breath against her lips.

“I do need you,” he whispered. “I need you, Belle.”

“I need you, too,” she breathed. “And - and I want you, Rum. So much.”

It was as though sparks were dancing between them, making her skin prickle and her lips part. His breathing had hardened a little, and his eyes were dark and deep, staring into hers. She could feel her pulse throbbing high in her throat, and she leaned in and briefly pressed her mouth to his, a gentle brush of soft lips. Gold sucked in a breath, a shiver going through him, and she kissed him again, lips pressing a little harder before she pulled back. He was staring at her wide-eyed, his palm still cupping her face, and he reached up with the other hand, fingertips brushing stray curls back from her face as he leaned in to kiss her again.

He was hesitant, a little breathless, his lips brushing gently against hers, his fingers sliding into her hair. Belle shifted closer, hands dropping to slide around his waist, and she moaned as the tip of his tongue gently parted her lips, pushing inside to stroke against hers.

Belle shifted closer, pushing him back against the cushions as the kiss deepened. Her heart was thumping, her cheeks flushing as their lips slipped and slid, Gold’s fingers stroking against the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair. She slid a knee across his legs, straddling him, and his hands moved down her back, tugging her close against him as he let out a groan of pleasure. She could feel the edge of his belt buckle against her lower belly, and she rolled her hips, sinking down a little and feeling the hard line of his cock pressing against her core. Gold gasped into her mouth, hot breath and wet lips against hers, and pulled back a little, breathing hard.

Belle nuzzled her nose with his, and he reached up to stroke her hair back from her face, running his thumb over her lower lip, his hands trembling a little. She kissed the tip of his thumb, catching his eyes with hers, her chest heaving as she slid her hands up his chest. He shook his head.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he whispered, and she smiled.

“Did you dream about this?”

“Too many times,” he breathed. “I never thought - never hoped you might—”

She kissed him again, and he let out a low growl, his hand clutching at her hair as the kiss grew hard and messy. His chest was hot and firm beneath her hands as they slid upwards, his hair just as soft as she had expected. She pulled her mouth from his, sitting back a little as she tried to catch her breath.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

He stared at her, his mouth a little slack, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly uncertain.

“Do you - not want to?” she asked, and Gold’s eyebrows flicked upwards.

“Oh - no no, of course I do,” he said quickly. “It’s just - well - you’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just a little tired, that’s all. Going to bed would be the best thing for me, in the circumstances.”

He grinned at that, and inclined his head.

“I can’t argue with that,” he said. “But I didn’t see any condoms in Mayor Mills’ grocery box.”

Belle giggled, and kissed his nose.

“I take birth control,” she said. “So - so we could. If you wanted.”

He smiled briefly, his eyes glinting.

“I want,” he breathed, and kissed her again.

Belle undulated against him, pressing her body to his, feeling the heat of him through his shirt, and his hand dropped to her thigh, sliding upwards, moving over her hip to squeeze her rear. She pulled her mouth free, pressing her forehead to his.

“Bed,” she whispered, and slipped from his lap.

They left the wine, Belle grasping his hand in hers and pulling him with her up the stairs. The lamp was on in the bedroom, a pleasant, warm light, and she shut the door behind him, hoping that Bae was sleeping soundly and wouldn’t decide to wander around in the middle of the night. She stepped forward, reaching for him, and their mouths met, her hands grasping his belt and tugging it open as his hands stroked over her shoulders. Gold pushed the robe from her, and she quickly pulled the belt open and let it fall, stepping closer and rising up on her toes as she pulled her mouth from his and kissed down his neck.

He let out a low groan, head rolling back, and she reached for the buttons of his shirt, eager to open it up and bare his skin. Her hands shook a little as she unbuttoned him, and she trailed her mouth around his throat, breathing in the musky scent of him, feeling the scrape of his stubble against her tender lips. She got the shirt open, tugging it from his jeans, hands sliding over hot, firm muscles as she pushed it from him. Gold shrugged out of it, and she bent her head to his chest, letting her tongue swirl over a taut nipple and making him groan. His skin tasted of salt and very faintly of the shower gel he used. She breathed him in, nuzzling his skin with her nose, and tasted him again, sucking the nipple in between her lips.

Gold ran his fingers through her hair, rumpling her curls as she sucked at him, her tongue circling. His fingers gently scraped against her scalp, making her shiver deliciously, and she slid her hands down his sides, feeling the lines of his ribs, drawing her fingertips around the waistband of his jeans. She let his nipple slip from her mouth and raised her head, breathing hard as she plucked at the button of his fly. Gold cradled her face with warm hands, kissing her tenderly, his lips soft and wet.

She got his jeans open, breaking the kiss as she pushed them down over his hips, and stepped back as he kicked them off. Gold reached for her, hands gently grasping her hips and pulling her a little closer. His thumbs slipped beneath the shirt of her PJs, brushing against the skin of her waist and slowly pushing upwards, lifting the shirt. Belle raised her arms to let him pull it over her head and toss it aside, and she shook out her hair, watching him study her, his eyes roaming over her curves.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”

She smiled, reaching for him, stepping close and sliding her hands around his waist as she raised her head to capture his lips with her own. Gold groaned, hands sliding down to cup her rear and pull her close, her breasts pushing against his chest, his skin hot against hers. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck, and Belle rose up on her toes with a moan of pleasure. The sensation of his lips against her skin made her shiver, and he pulled back, nuzzling her nose with his as he pushed her pants down over her rear.

Belle stepped out of them, turning and pulling him with her as she lay down on the bed. He stumbled a little, kneeling heavily on the mattress beside her before lying by her side, and Belle shifted over a little, reaching up to kiss him, hands stroking through his hair as he pulled her close. He rolled her onto her back, kissing down her throat, his hair brushing against her chest as he kissed lower, his tongue painting circles on her skin. His hands cupped her breasts, and Belle moaned, arching upwards as he sucked at a nipple, a low groan coming from him.

She let her head roll back against the pillows, eyes closed, enjoying the heat and weight of him pressing down on her, and the feel of his lips against her skin. He kissed lower, his fresh stubble scratching at her belly, and she sucked in a breath as his tongue swept over her navel, lips pulling at her skin. His hands slid down to her thighs, pushing them apart, and she opened her legs wider as his nose brushed against her tender flesh. Gold let out a low growl as he kissed her, and Belle answered him with a tiny cry as his tongue dipped in between her folds. She let her hands drop to push through his hair, moaning as he licked her, his tongue swirling and stabbing, brushing over her clit and making her skin hum with pleasure.

“God, Belle!” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, and put his mouth to her again, his tongue circling, soft and wet. 

Belle moaned, arching her back, pushing against his mouth. He had settled into a rhythm, his tongue moving in slow circles, and she lost herself in the feel of it, letting the pleasure build deep in her core. His hand moved, a finger teasing her before sliding inside, pushing deep, and Belle gasped at the increase in sensation, her fingers tightening in his hair.

“God, that’s good!” she breathed. “So good.”

He was sliding the finger in and out of her, his tongue stroking against her, and she could feel the heat rise up through her body, flushing her cheeks and making her breath quicken. She whimpered, clutching at his hair, pushing her hips upwards, her body rocking against the bed in time with his thrusts. He had quickened his pace, his tongue flickering over her, and she could feel her muscles tense, her body tightening as her pulse seemed to pound in her head.

She came with a cry, shoving a forearm over her mouth to muffle the noise as a wave of pleasure broke over her. Gold groaned, drawing the finger out of her, his mouth covering her, devouring her, and she moaned as her hips jerked in tiny, rapid movements. He pressed kisses to her, lips trailing over her inner thighs before making his way up over her belly, and she slid her hands over his shoulders as he reached her breasts, his hands cupping, lips gently pulling at a nipple. His body was pressed against hers, and she could feel him against her thigh, a hard, heavy heat that made desire surge within her.

He pushed up on his elbows, breathing hard as he gazed down on her, and she reached up to push his hair back from his face, his skin damp and sticky.

“That was amazing,” she whispered. “You see? Very generous.”

He grinned, his eyes glinting.

“I could be even more generous, if you like.”

“Maybe later,” she said, sliding a hand down between them. “I’m in the mood for something a little more - mutual.”

She grasped his cock, feeling the hot, rigid length of him in her hand, squeezing gently, and Gold groaned low in his throat, a bass, rumbling growl. Belle ran the pad of her thumb over the head, spreading a bead of slippery fluid, and opened her legs a little wider, guiding him into her. His breath caught, the muscles in his arms tightening, and he let out a shuddering sigh as he pushed slowly inside her, sinking deep. She moaned, lifting her knees, sliding her feet along his thighs and up over his rear, wrapping her legs around his back.

He felt good inside her, and she lifted her hips, feeling the heat of him, the friction of his skin against hers as he began to move with long, slow circles of his hips, a rhythmic grinding motion. His hands pushed into her hair, fingers still sticky with her fluids, and he kissed her, his tongue gently pushing between her lips. Belle caressed his shoulders, running fingertips down his sides and up the groove of his spine to stroke through his hair. He shuddered, gasping into her mouth, his hands cradling her face, his lips brushing against hers as he thrust into her.

Belle moaned, head rolling back against the pillows, and he drew his tongue up her throat, sucking at her skin. The feel of him inside her was incredible, heat and wetness and the friction of his body against hers sending bursts of sensation through her. She kissed along his jaw, feeling the rasp of his stubble against her lips, drawing the warm scent of him in through her nose. She could feel bliss rising through her once more, swelling upwards and making her skin hum. Her thighs gripped his sides, sliding against him, holding him tight, and he groaned against her neck, his movements quickening, his cock pushing deep inside her. 

She could feel him tense, his muscles hard and taut beneath her fingers, and she bucked against him, tugging at him, a moan bursting from her throat and becoming a cry of pleasure as she came, stars bursting in her vision. Gold let out a deep groan, his cock pulsing as he followed her, his thrusts rapid and shallow as his hips pumped. She clung to him, letting out tiny moans in time with his thrusts, and he slowed to a stop, breathing heavily, hair brushing her face as he pressed his forehead to hers.

Belle tried to catch her breath, feeling the heat of him against her, perspiration making their skin slippery where their bodies joined. She tilted her head, gently brushing her lips against his, and Gold smiled, nuzzling her affectionately.

“Hey,” he said, and she smiled.

“Hey.”

He kissed along her jaw and down her neck, slowly pulling out of her and rolling onto his side with a heavy sigh. Belle turned with him, sliding a hand over his waist and down over his hip. She felt wonderfully relaxed, her skin still tingling from her orgasm, and Gold was watching her with a tender expression, his eyes heavy with sleepy contentment. She walked her fingers up his body, laying her hand over his heart and feeling its heavy thump against her palm. Gold smiled, putting a hand over hers.

“I’d forgotten how good it feels,” he whispered, sliding his fingers through hers. “To be touched. To touch like this.”

“It’s been a while for me, too,” she said, and his mouth curved in a lopsided grin.

“Has it been six years?”

“Well - okay, maybe not that long,” she admitted, chuckling. “But this was worth the wait.”

“Indeed.” He kissed her gently. “It was perfect.”

“Not bad for a couple of invalids,” she added, and he chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t a wonderful dream,” he said. “And when I wake up, I’ll be alone again.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on sleeping on the couch,” she remarked. “Your bed is too comfy. And way better when you’re in it with me.”

“Good,” he said softly, and kissed her again. “Stay with me tonight, Belle.”

“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “As long as you want. I won’t leave you, I promise.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! I've really enjoyed writing this fluffy family fic. Time to leave these babies with their happy beginning, but I'm sure I'll see them again in ficlets :)

Belle decided that waking up next to Gold was what she wanted to do each and every day from that moment on.

They had been awake into the small hours of the morning. After the sex came talking and kissing, and some time around two a.m. she had straddled him and ridden him to a slow, satisfying climax. They had fallen asleep not long after, wrapped around each other, and she felt wonderfully warm and content when she woke in his arms, nuzzling his chest affectionately. Gold smiled, morning light making his eyes almost amber.

“Good morning,” he murmured, and kissed her.

Belle opened her mouth for him, running fingers through his soft hair as he gently rolled her onto her back, lips pulling at hers. He kissed the tip of her nose, and then her forehead.

“What time is it?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“No idea. Later than it has any right to be, I should think.” His fingers were stroking against the skin of her waist. “My morning routine is buggered.”

“Think you can catch up?”

“I’m thinking that taking a few hours off isn’t going to kill me,” he said, and she grinned, lifting her head to kiss him. It was several minutes before she settled back against the pillows with a contented sigh.

“We should get up,” she said regretfully.

“We really should.”

He kissed her again, a hand sliding up to cup her breast, and Belle moaned into his mouth, feeling him start to swell against her leg.

“Belle, I can’t find Papa, and—”

Bae had barged into the bedroom, rocking back on his heels as he saw Gold in bed, flailing to cover himself. Belle squeaked, pulling the blankets up to her chin, and Bae eyed them curiously.

“Didn’t like the couch, huh, Papa?” he said. “Didn’t _ you _ want to sleep on the couch, Belle? You said it was real comfy, and Papa snores sometimes.”

Belle had stuffed the blanket into her mouth to hold in her giggles, and Gold had covered his face with his hands. She could feel herself blushing, but she managed to stop laughing, clearing her throat.

“Uh - no, we decided to share the bed,” she said. “He didn’t snore.”

“Please remember to knock before you enter someone’s bedroom, Bae,” added Gold.

“Okay. Sorry.” Bae looked between them, brow furrowing. “Uh - are we having breakfast? It’s nearly eight o’clock.”

Gold sighed into his hands, but he was smiling when he lowered them.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he said. “I’ll make you anything you want if you go downstairs and watch TV for half an hour.”

“Okay.” Bae was already heading for the door. “Can I have pancakes?”

“Pancakes it is.”

The door slammed, and they heard the thunder of feet on the stairs as Bae hurried to the lounge, followed by the sound of the television. Belle looked at Gold and they burst into giggles before he tugged the blankets over them both. She snuggled into his side, nuzzling his chest, and he kissed the top of her head.

“I suppose we should tell him,” he remarked. “Not as though I want to hide it.”

“Me neither,” she said, and raised her head. “Will he be okay with it, do you think?”

He kissed her head again.

“I think he’ll be delighted,” he said. “He already loves you, Belle.”

“Good.” She folded her arms on his chest, pushing up to look down on him. “I love him. And I love you.”

He smiled, reaching up to stroke her hair back from her face.

“I love you, too,” he said. “And we’ve got another two weeks of quarantine to get through. Two weeks of trying to keep the noise down at night.”

Belle grinned.

“Sooner or later, lockdown will be over, we’ll be able to move around freely, and Bae will want to have a sleepover with Neal,” she said. “And if Mary Margaret doesn’t suggest it, I will.”

Gold chuckled, rolling her onto her back and kissing her.

“Until then,” he whispered. “We’re going to have to be very, very quiet.”

* * *

The television was blaring from the lounge when they made it downstairs, and Gold rolled his eyes fondly before going to the fridge to take out the milk.

“I thought I’d tell him at breakfast,” he said, and glanced at Belle as he reached for the eggs. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too tired?”

“Oh, I am,” said Belle. “But I’m not sure how much of that is down to the virus and how much is your fault.”

“I seem to recall you being equally responsible for the lack of sleeping that was done last night,” he remarked, and she giggled, filling the kettle with water for tea.

“I can always take a nap later if I feel like it,” she said. “What else do we need to do today?”

“Get the rest of the peas and beans planted,” he said. “I thought I might make a pie this afternoon. And I have to think of some way out of the financial hole we’re in. Sorry - that _ I’m _in.”

“It’s ‘we’ now,” she corrected him. “You can have a librarian’s salary to add into the mix. Now you’ve had sex with me, you don’t get to refuse my help, got it?”

He gave her a wicked grin.

“Why does it feel like I’m getting the better bargain in all this?” he remarked.

“Because you don’t have as high an opinion of your skills and qualities as I do,” she said. “I’m well aware how lucky I am. You had me at homemade bread, the oral sex was just an unexpected bonus.”

Gold chuckled, eyes glinting.

“Flatterer.”

“It’s true,” she insisted. “Besides, on the money side, I’m sure the Mayor is already thinking about ways to get the local economy moving again. Why don’t you get involved?”

Gold pursed his lips, pausing with the whisk in his hand.

“Good idea,” he said. “I’ll call and offer my services. I imagine that having had the virus, I’m in a better position than some to help out. Thank you, Belle.”

“See?” she said. “Life’s better with two. Or in our case three.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling, and began to whisk the pancake batter.

* * *

Before too long there were plates piled with fluffy pancakes in front of each of them, and mugs of steaming tea. Bae poured maple syrup over his pancakes, watching as it covered the blueberries and sliced banana.

“You think we’ll get lots of strawberries this year, Papa?” he asked. “I like strawberries on pancakes too.”

“I know you do,” said Gold. “Let’s see how the plants do. The seedlings are ready to put in pots, so we can do that today, if you and Belle want to help.”

“Okay.”

Bae cut a piece of pancake, dipping it in syrup and shoving it in his mouth. Gold and Belle shared a glance, and she nodded.

“Bae,” said Gold. “How would you feel about Belle living here permanently?”

Bae’s face brightened.

“Cool, she can get to know the kittens!” he said. “Oh - but we only have two bedrooms. Where will her stuff go? Where will you sleep?”

That last line was addressed to Belle, who smiled.

“I’m going to sleep in your dad’s room, with him,” she said. “I decided I wanted to be his girlfriend after all.”

“Oh. Gross. Uh - I mean, cool.” Bae wrinkled his nose before grinning. “You’re not gonna kiss all the time like Neal’s mom and dad, are you?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Gold gravely. “There’s going to be a lot of kissing.”

“A _ lot_,” added Belle.

“Ew!” Bae pulled a face, making them laugh. “Okay then. Does that mean Belle gets to go to Parent/Teacher night? Does she get to come to the class play, too?”

“Assuming the school is open by Christmas, yes,” said Gold.

“I can’t wait,” said Belle, and Bae beamed at her and turned back to his breakfast.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

Belle paused in her walking to turn her face up to the early evening sun, feeling its welcome warmth on her skin as she stood on Storybrooke’s main street. The town was quiet, a few residents moving here and there and queuing at a respectful distance outside the shops that were open for business. Granny’s Diner was open, but many of the tables had been removed to allow for proper social distancing, and the staff all wore masks. There were tables on the sidewalk, allowing for open air seating. There was talk of creating a pedestrian zone in the middle of town to allow for businesses to expand outwards temporarily and create more space for the townsfolk to shop. The Council was due to make a decision on it that week.

“It looks quiet,” said Bae, from beside her, and she glanced around.

“Things have just started opening up again,” she said. “It’ll take a little while for people to settle into new ways of doing things.”

“I guess.” Bae screwed up his face, squinting at the diner. “Do you think Granny made any apple pies?”

“Let’s go and ask her.”

Belle adjusted her mask, pinching it over the bridge of her nose before grasping the handle of the suitcase she had used to transport her things over to the Golds’ house. She was all moved in, her clothes and possessions transferred from the tiny apartment above the library to the wardrobe and drawers in Gold’s bedroom. The library itself was still closed, but she had been given the go-ahead by the Mayor to reopen the following week.

They walked past the diner, Bae craning his neck to see through the window to the counter, and entered the inn. Belle rang the bell at the front desk and waited patiently until Granny herself appeared, dusting her hands on her apron and smiling.

“Well,” she said. “Here’s a sight for sore eyes. Are you feeling better, young Mr Gold?”

“I’m a lot better,” Bae assured her. “Did you make any apple pies?”

Granny rolled her eyes.

“Right to the point, hmm?” she remarked. “Yes, Bae, I made apple pies. I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Bae hastily. “I forgot you were sick too.”

“We’re glad to see you looking so well,” added Belle. “Ruby said you’d recovered quickly once you got rid of the virus.”

“Takes more than a global pandemic to see me off,” said Granny brusquely. “Ruby said you’d been living with the Golds over lockdown. I take it everyone’s okay?”

“We’re all fine now,” Belle assured her, and patted the suitcase handle. “Rum finished your books, so I brought them over.”

“Oh. Great, tell him to send me an invoice,” said Granny. “Things have been tight, but now we’re open again, we can start to get back to normal. Whatever that looks like.”

Belle opened up the case, and Bae helped her lift out the ledgers and set them on the reception desk.

“Rum wanted to apologise for not bringing them over himself,” she explained. “He’s signed up for the Mayor’s Regeneration Project. Had to leave at eight a.m. to start work on the community garden. He’ll be home soon, but I wanted to get these over to you before we had to start dinner.”

Granny nodded.

“That’s some hard work he's doing,” she said. “A good idea of Anton’s, turning that old wasteland over to a garden. I was thinking about organising some sort of event later in the year when we get the all-clear. Maybe around Miners’ Day. Could be a good chance for the town to share in the harvest.”

“Yeah!” said Bae enthusiastically.

“Sounds great,” agreed Belle. “Concentrating on local produce and crafts is a great way to get the economy going again. As long as everyone pays attention to the safety precautions.”

“Most of the townsfolk are being sensible about that kind of thing,” said Granny. “There’s a few idiots, but the Sheriff won’t stand for any of their stupidity. And we don’t get many out-of-towners. I think we’ll be okay. It’ll be good for the kids to help grow some of their own food.”

“Mary Margaret and I had an idea for a joint project,” said Belle. “I’ve dug out everything the library has on growing fruit and vegetables, and I’ve spent the past few days drawing up resources for the kids to use.”

“How’s the garden design coming along?” asked Granny. “Last I heard they’d be spending most of this month clearing rubble and litter.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be most of it,” agreed Belle. “We walked Rum over to the site this morning and Leroy and his buddies were all masked up and shovelling rocks into wheelbarrows. They’re clearing it in sections, but it’ll be a week or so before they can plant anything.”

Granny pursed her lips.

“I could probably take some cuttings from my herb bushes,” she said. “You need anything like that?”

“Probably,” said Belle. “I’ll ask Rum. He and Anton have been designing this thing; they’ve both put so much work into it. I think it’s gonna be great.”

“Hmm.” Granny was giving her an appraising look, as though she had been thinking of something and had just had it confirmed. “What are they putting in first?”

“The Nolans are donating some fruit trees,” said Belle. “And Rum and I have been growing strawberry and raspberry plants that are ready to go in the ground. We have some green onions and lettuce, too. Should get things started.”

Granny looked her up and down momentarily.

“Sounds like you living there is turning into something more permanent,” she observed, and Belle felt her cheeks flush a little.

“Oh - well, yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.”

“She’s Papa’s girlfriend,” put in Bae. “They keep _ kissing_.”

Belle bit her lip to hide a smile, and Granny gave an approving nod

“About time that boy got himself the love of a good woman,” she said briskly. “Been trying to convince him he needed one since he moved to this town, but now I see he was waiting for the right person. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

“That’s the plan,” said Belle, with a grin. “Being quarantined together may be an unconventional way to meet, but I wouldn’t change it for a thing.”

Granny nodded.

“You tell him not to overdo things,” she said. “I know damn well he had that virus just as badly as I did, and it’ll take him time to get back to full fitness.”

“Getting Rum to relax and take it easy is something of a work in progress,” said Belle dryly.

“Well, if you ever need a babysitter, Ruby and I are more than happy to take Bae for the evening,” said Granny. “He and Ruby can play that awful computer game she drives me up the wall with and you two can have a nice romantic night together.”

Belle smiled.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Granny nodded, patting the books and smiling.

“Go tell Ruby I said you could take one of the apple pies, how’s that, Bae?”

“Thanks, Granny!”

Once Bae was carrying the pie in its cardboard box, Belle pulled the now-empty suitcase with her along the street, smiling to herself as she listened to the sounds of the town coming back to life, its residents calling greetings to one another, Bae chattering happily by her side. By the time they reached the little green and yellow house she now called home, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face, her heart filled with happiness and hope for the future.

“Can we have the apple pie for dessert?” asked Bae. “When Papa gets home?”

Belle put an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him.

“I think he’d love that,” she said.

“Did I hear the magic words ‘apple pie’?”

Gold’s voice made them turn, and Belle smiled broadly as he walked up to them, streaks of mud on his white T-shirt, dirt on his knees and forearms and a wide grin on his face.

“You’re back!” she said. “We weren’t expecting you for another hour, were we, Bae?”

“We got through more than we expected,” said Gold, brushing dried mud from his forearm. “Anton thought it would be best to save some energy for tomorrow. Is that pie, Bae?”

“Apple,” said Bae, holding up the box. “Can we have it with ice cream?”

“That sounds perfect.” Gold leaned in to kiss Belle softly, and put his arm around Bae’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s make dinner.”

He steered Bae up the path, listening to his son’s excited chatter about the places that were open in town, and Belle smiled contentedly as she followed them. _ Yes. We’re going to be very happy together. We already are. _


End file.
